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TWO B1DDICUT BOYS 

AND THEIR ADVENTURES WITH 
A WONDERFUL TRICK-DOG 


BY 

J. T. TROWBRIDGE 

T 

5'Husitratrti 



NEW YORK 

THE CENTURY CO. 
1898 



Copyright, 1897, 1898, by 
The Century Co. 


Copyright, 1898, by 
J. T. Trowbridge. 


All rights reserved. 


I 'i(i8£ 



1898. 


Copt 

TWO COHitS fttCtIVE0. 

St} 

THE DE VINNE PRESS, NEW YORK. 

o^% 




CONTENTS 

Chapter page 

I On the Lake-shore ........ 1 

II A Romantic Story.10 

III The Stranger and his Dog Part Company . . 17 

IV Cliff Brings Home his Purchase .... 23 

V The Origin of the Word “Dogged” . . . .29 

VI “Did n’t I Tell You So?”.38 

VII Cliff Triumphant.45 

VIII One of Sparkler’s Tricks.54 

IX Cliff in Pursuit.58 

X The Beginning of the Chase.63 

XI Another Dog-hunter.69 

XII The Village Landlady ..... 76 

XIII Mrs. Grover’s Husband.85 

XIV “A Nice Pet for an Old Couple” .... 90 

XV Adventures by the Way.95 

XVI An Unpleasant Surprise.102 

XVII At the Star Grove Hotel.110 

XVIII “An English Lord with Six Trunks” . . .116 

XIX The Hot Box.120 

XX A Meeting and a Parting.125 

XXI The Wayside Shed.134 

XXII “What do You Want of Me?” .... 140 

XXIII Quint Chooses his Companion.144 


v 










CONTENTS 


Chapter 

XXIV A Desperate Encounter. 

XXV A Companion Finds Cliff .... 

XXVI Captor or Captive?. 

XXVII How Winslow Hunted for his Watch 

XXVIII “A Prodigious Blunder”. 

XXIX What was Hidden in the Manger 
XXX What Cliff Carried in his Pocket . 

XXXI How the Boys Found Supper and Lodging 

XXXII A Strange Fellow-lodger. 

XXXIII “What Man-trap is That?” .... 
XXXIV Another Mysterious Man-trap .... 

XXXV In Deacon Payson’s Barn. 

XXXVI Settling with the Dog-seller .... 
XXXVII Winslow’s Pocket-knife ...... 

XXXVIII Homeward Bound . ...... 

XXXIX Back in Biddicut ...... 

XL What should be Done with Him? 

XLI Cliff Writes a Letter and Receives a Tele¬ 
gram . 

XLII How the Boys Went to the Circus . 

XLIII An Interview with the Great Showman . 


PAGE 

149 
. 156 
165 
. 175 
181 
. 187 
196 
. 202 
209 
. 216 
223 
, 232 
238 
, 243 
248 
, 255 
261 

. 265 
272 
, 278 




LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


A Little Chilly after his Bath .... Frontispiece 

PAGE 

Sparkler’s First Appearance.3 

The Three Dollars and a Half I Lent You— . . .33 

Made Him Fast to the Frame of the Grindstone . 51 

Here’s our Friend’s Name, Cliff!.81 

There’s your Man, with his Dog.107 

The Dog was Here Only a Little While Ago . . . 131 

Facing Each Other in that Terrible Solitude . . 141 

It was a Hat.161 

“Police,” He Cried, “I ’ye Brought You a Highway 

Robber!”.171 

“I ’ll Hold You this Time, if I Live!” Cliff Exclaimed 

Jubilantly.191 

The Wary Feet Felt their Way down the Ladder . 213 

The Dark Object Became a Man.227 

Cliff would have Had Sparkler Perform . . . 251 

Home at Last!.• 257 

In the Circus Tent.281 


vii 












































































































TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 




TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


ON THE LAKE-SHORE 



HE boys were putting on their clothes 
in the shadow of the ice-house, when a 
young man walking along the edge of 
the railroad embankment sauntered 
down to the shore, followed by a dog. 
He had on a narrow-brimmed, speckled 
straw hat and a loose sack-coat, and he carried a short 
stick in his hand. 

He did n’t seem to observe the boys, but the boys 
observed him. 

“ Looks like a lightning-rod man off on a vacation,” said 
Clift* Chantry. u The one that rodded our new barn had 
just such a free-and-easy, I-own-the-earth sort of swagger.” 

u Bright-looking cur he’s got,” said Ike Ingalls, tugging 
away at a stocking half-way on his wet foot. 

u It’s an Irish terrier,” said Dick Swan, hopping on one 
foot to jar the water out of his ear. 
i l 





2 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ That ’s no terrier,” said the tallest of the boys, as he 
stood buttoning his shirt-collar, with his elbows spread, his 
chin up, and a prominent nose high in the air. “ It’s some 
sort of a spaniel; don’t you see the ears?”—lowering his 
chin, and glancing in the direction of the dog and his 
master. “ His legs are too long for any Irish terrier’s.” 

“A spaniel it is, then; when Quint Whistler says a 
thing, that makes it so.” Having uttered this sarcasm, 
Dick hopped on the other foot, to jounce the water out of 
his other ear. 

Quint paid no attention to the taunt, but pulled down 
his wristbands under his coat-cuffs, and remarked dryly: 

“What’s that he’s got in his hand?—I mean the man, 
not the dog. It’s too big for a toothpick, but not big 
enough for a walking-stick.” 

“I ’ll tell you,” suggested Cliff Chantry. “He’s the 
leader of a band, and that’s his band-stick. Don’t you 
know?”—and he stopped combing his wet hair with his 
fingers, to make fantastic motions with an imaginary 
baton. “ He’s waving it now; see ? ” 

“ The dog’s his band; he’s waving it for him,” said 
Quint. “ There! ” 

The stick went splashing into the water a few rods from 
shore, and the dog went plunging and paddling after it. 

“ I knew he was a water-dog,” said Quint. 

“ That’s no sign,” Cliff replied. “ A terrier could do 
that. I ’ll ask him. I say, mister! what sort of a whelp 
is that?” 

The young man waited until the dog brought him the 


SPARKLER’S FIRST APPEARANCE. 





* j * \ H V *v 

































































































































































ON THE LAKE-SHORE 


5 


stick, then turned to the boys coming down the slope and 
buttoning their last buttons. 

“ What sort of a whelp ? ” he repeated. “ He ’s a sparkler. 
Did n’t you ever see a sparkler ? ” 

“ Can’t say I ever did,” Cliff replied. “Never heard of 
one. What’s a sparkler like ? ” 

“As much like the animal you see here as your two 
thumbs are like each other. See him, and you see a 
sparkler. Hear him,”—at a motion of the stick the dog 
barked,—“and you hear a sparkler. Did you ever read 
Shakspere ? ” 

“ I know the dialogue between Brutus and Cassius, in 
the ‘ Advanced Speaker,’ ” Cliff replied. “ I acted Cassius 
once, at a school exhibition, to this fellow’s Brutus.” He 
turned and looked up with a laugh at Quint Whistler, who 
was the last to come down to the shore, buttoning his vest 
by the way. 

“ Brutus,—Marcus Brutus,—this slab-sided chap with 
the gambrel-roof nose?” said the dog’s owner, with a 
laugh which infected the whole crowd of boys, except 
Quint himself. 

He had, as has been suggested, an exceptionally bold 
nasal protuberance; and there was a break in the high 
slope of it, somewhat suggestive of the roof in question. 
Cliff’s nose, on the contrary, was short, but shapely, be¬ 
longing to a frank, freckled, mirthful face—the face of a 
farmer’s boy about sixteen years old. He was of medium 
height, and rather stocky. Quint was perhaps a year 
older, fully a head taller, lank of face and bony of frame. 


6 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


His countenance was grave almost to sternness at this 
moment, as if he did n’t altogether relish the personal na¬ 
ture of the young man’s remarks. 

The young man confronted the two, looking from one 
to the other with an air of lively satisfaction at having 
made their acquaintance. The boys’ companions, half a 
dozen or more, gathered in a group, listening to the con¬ 
versation. 

“ Brutus has got the most nose, but Cassius knows the 
most,” the stranger rattled on gaily, “ though it’s easier 
to decide about the nose than about the knowledge. If I 
could see you two act Brutus and Cassius, that might help 
settle the question.” 

Quint kept his frowning countenance, but Cliff answered 
laughingly: 

“ He’s great as Brutus! You should see him once! 
He used to step up on the teacher’s platform to spout, 
4 When Marcus Brutus grows so covetous ’; then when he 
got to ,— 1 Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts! dash 
him to pieces ! ’—he would jump down on the floor with a 
jar that made the old school-house shake. Cassius was 
nowhere! But what has Shakspere, and Brutus and Cas¬ 
sius, to do with your pup ? ” 

“That ’s what I was coming to,” replied the pup’s 
master, holding the stick again, ready to throw. “ In one 
of the plays is a heroine, 1 created,’ as her lover says, 1 of 
every creature’s best.’ That’s what every fellow thinks 
of his girl, so it can’t always be true. But it applies 
exactly to my dog. He is multum in parvo , e pluribus 


ON THE LAKE-SHORE 


7 


tmum, ne plus ultra. He ’s a land-dog and a water-dog, a 
sheep-dog and a watch-dog; as honest a dog as ever you 
saw steal a sausage, and the cunningest trick-dog in the 
wide world ; as sly as a fox, and as amusing as a monkey. 
Sparkler ’s his name, and Sparkler ’s his nature. Young 
gentlemen, that paragon is for sale, and I invite you to 
make an offer for him.” 

He threw the stick, and as the paragon went splashing 
after it he added : 

“What 11 you give, Brutus? Name a figure, Cassius! 
Don’t be bashful because I happen to be a stranger.” 

u I should n’t think you would want to sell such a per¬ 
fect creature as that,” remarked Cliff Chantry. 

“My young friend, you ’re right. Nothing but dire 
necessity could ever induce me to part with him. Neces¬ 
sity is a hard mistress j she ’ll part a good boy and his 
gran’ma, often a man and his money, sometimes a man and 
his dog. Have you a silver half-dollar, Brutus? You, 
Cassius, a quarter? I’d like to flip it into the lake, for 
you to see him paddle out and find it, dive to the bottom 
for it, and bring it ashore. Anybody got a piece of bright 
money ? ” 

Brutus lifted his eyebrows at Cassius with a droll ex¬ 
pression. Cassius drew down one side of his face with a 
sagacious wink. The other boys likewise winked and 
smiled, and two or three of them might have been ob¬ 
served to press their hands prudently on their pockets. 
Bright pieces with which to strew the bottom of the lake 
were not forthcoming. 


8 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“I am pained to perceive an air of incredulity among 
some of you” said the stranger. “ But to convince you —” 
He put his hand into his own pocket, and asked, “ How 
deep is it out where he is now ? ” 

“ About up to your neck,” said Cliff. 

“ That’s all right. This is the last quarter that remains 
to me out of a small fortune; but to show you the confi¬ 
dence I have in the sagacity of my four-footed friend— 
Here, Sparkler! ” 

Sparkler dropped the stick on the sand, put his nose to 
the coin, and yelped wishfully. 

“ Watch carefully ! ” his owner said to the boys. “ Look 
alive, Sparkler! ”—and he flung the coin boldly out into 
the lake, where it sank in a circle of ripples. 

The dog swam swiftly after it, put down his head into 
the clear water two or three times as he neared the spot, 
and finally went down altogether. He seemed to be gone 
a long while: a few seconds seem a long while when you 
are watching a thing of that sort. 

“ I bet you he does n’t bring up an}^ silver quarter,” said 
Cliff Chantry. 

“How much will you bet?” cried the dog’s owner, 
eagerly. “Any fellow here wants to make a bet? You, 
Brutus ? Put up some money, some of you! ” 

“ But you’ve no money to put up,” said Quint Whistler. 

“ I’ve that quarter—” 

“ At the bottom of the lake! ” Cliff laughed excitedty. 

“ I ’ll bet the dog! The dog against a dollar! That’s 
a hundred to one! Quick! ” cried the young man. “ There 


ON THE LAKE-SHORE 


9 


he comes! Will you take thfe wager on what he ’s got in 
his mouth ? ” 

u 1’m not in the habit of backing up my opinions with 
bets,” remarked Quint Whistler. “All is, I ’m glad 
’1 was n’t my quarter you flung.” 

u He’s got his mouth shut,” said Ike Ingalls. u It was 
open when he swam out.” 

“ He’s got a pebble in it! He’s got his mouth full of 
sand! Ho, ho ! ” The boys clamored and jeered, at the 
same time watching with eager curiosity the dog paddling 
shoreward. 

“ Boys,” said the young man, gaily, “ you are a squad 
of young Solomons ! You ’ll sling wisdom when you get 
free from your mothers’ apron-strings! Is n’t that so, 
Sparkler ? as the dog came dripping out of the lake, and 
dropped into his master’s open palm, along with some 
gravel, before the eyes of the intensely interested specta¬ 
tors, the recovered piece of money. 


II 


A ROMANTIC STORY 



HAT ’S nothing to what he can do/’ said 
the young man, dipping the coin in the 
water and then wiping it with his hand¬ 
kerchief before returning it to his 
pocket. “ Shake yourself, Sparkler! n 
Sparkler shook himself, sending a 
shower of spray into the faces of the recoiling and back¬ 
ward tumbling boys. Quint Whistler alone stood his 
ground, receiving the drops on his nose with an equanimity 
that amused the stranger. 

“Now I see what that gambrel-roof is for—to shed 
water. My object, young gentlemen, was not to get the 
water on to you, as you may perhaps imagine, but to get 
it off from Sparkler and reduce his weight by so much 
liquid; for now I am going to show you how he can jump. 
Sparkler! ” 

The young man held out the stick horizontally, about 
eighteen inches from the ground, and the dog leaped over 
it. He raised it six inches, and the dog went over it again. 

10 




A ROMANTIC STORY 


11 


So lie kept raising it, and the dog continued to jump 
over it, until it was finally placed across the top of Ike 
Ingalls’s head. 

Ike shut his eyes, giggling nervously, and holding him¬ 
self still, while the dog, just touching his shoulder lightly, 
went over the stick, and came down on the grass beyond. 

u Ho a regular trick-dog,” said the stranger. “ Now, 
let me suggest a scheme. Brutus and Cassius will buy 
him for twenty-five dollars, and star the country with him. 
See? Play Shakspere, and exhibit the dog! Can Mr. 
Whistler whistle ? ” He had heard the boys call Quint by 
his full name. “ Can either of you sing a comic song ? If 
you can, your fortune is made ! ” 

“I can whistle,” said Quint, “like an empty jug; and 
we can both sing like a couple of cats on a back shed at 
two o’clock in the morning. But I’m afraid that sort of 
whistling and singing would n’t be popular, let alone our 
Shakspere! ” 

Everybody laughed except Quint himself, who looked 
up with an appearance of mild surprise, as if to see where 
the fun came in. 

“The dog alone will be attraction enough,” said the 
stranger. “ See what else he can do.” He took off his 
coat and laid it on the grass. “Watch it, Sparkler! ” 

The dog lay down beside it, with his paws on the collar. 

“Now, would either of you young gentlemen like to 
earn a quarter? If so, bring away that coat, and the 
lucre is yours.” 

“ I don’t care for the quarter, but I can get that coat,” 


12 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


said Dick Swan, stepping carefully toward it, undeterred 
by the growls of Sparkler. 

All watched with excited interest till he made a sudden 
snatch at it. But before his hand grasped the garment, 
Sparkler’s teeth were fast in his sleeve—so fast, indeed, 
that as he sprang back he left a piece of his cuff in the 
dog’s mouth, amid the loud laughter of his companions. 

“He can do a hundred things,” said the stranger. 
“ Here’s one.” 

Beside his coat on the grass he placed his handkerchief ; 
beside that he laid his stick, and near that the silver quar¬ 
ter ; then over the quarter he turned his hat. 

“ Now, boys,” he said, stepping back a few paces, “ which 
of those articles shall he bring to me ? ” 

“ The handkerchief,” said Cliff. 

“You hear, Sparkler,” said the master; “the handker¬ 
chief.” 

And without hesitation the dog picked it up and brought 
it to him. 

“Now, Brutus, what will you have?” 

“ I say the thing that’s under the hat,” Quint replied. 

“Very well; the money that’s under the hat,” said the 
master. Whereupon Sparkler tipped the hat over with 
his nose, nipped daintily at the coin, which he took up, 
along with some grass, and dropped into the young man’s 
extended hand. 

“ That’s judgmatical! ” said Quint. 

And Cliff exclaimed: “He ’s great! Why don’t you 
exhibit him yourself ? ” 


A ROMANTIC STORY 


13 


“That 7 s what I am doing at this moment/ 7 said the 
dog’s owner y “ and that 7 s what 1 7 ve done to hundreds of 
delighted spectators. Sparkler never fails to sparkle. 
But to pass around the hat—that 7 s another question. If 
1 7 ve a weak point, it 7 s my modesty. 77 

“Your modesty is as plain as a gambrel-roof nose/ 7 said 
Quint Whistler, solemnly. 

“ Brutus/ 7 said the young man, laughing good-naturedly 
with the rest, “ we 7 re even. You owed me one, and you 
have paid it. 77 He put on his coat, and proceeded: “ I am 
the son of a distinguished lawyer, lately deceased y and I 
am now on my way to the bedside of a sick mother in 
Michigan, who has sent for me without knowing that I 
have no money for the journey. 77 

Cliff fondled the dog’s wet head, and inquired: “ How 
do you happen to be out of money so far from home ? 77 

The young man pulled down his cuffs under his coat- 
sleeves, and smilingly answered: 

“ That 7 s a long story, but it can be briefly told. I was 
employed as clerk in the big hotel in Bennington—the 
Stark Hotel, which was burned two weeks ago. What! you 
did n’t hear of that big fire ? Well, you would have heard 
of it if you had been in town that night. 7 T was a clean 
sweep! Inmates lost about everything—barely escaped 
with their lives. I was so busy getting out the hotel books, 
and helping the women and children, that I could n’t give 
any time to my own personal effects; so I lost all my cloth¬ 
ing, except what I had on my back, and all my books and 
private papers. I had some money in my pocket; but 


14 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


I ’ve spent that, waiting to get my back salary of the pro¬ 
prietor. He owes me seven hundred dollars; but I 
could n’t get it, because he had n’t settled with the insur¬ 
ance companies. I was lucky in one thing—I saved my 
dog. I threw him from a three-story window.” 

“ Seems to me that’s a three-story kind of a story,” ob¬ 
served Quint. 

“Wait till I tell you,” said the young man, not at all 
disconcerted. “ This was twelve o’clock at night. Think 
of it! He saw I was in danger—would stick to my heels, 
you know, while I was rousing the guests; he really 
helped me, by barking up and down the corridors, till I 
tumbled a feather-bed out of a window, and dropped him 
on it.” 

“ I don’t see how you can part with him! ” Cliff ex¬ 
claimed, caressing the wonderful quadruped. 

“Necessity—sheer necessity! ” answered the young man. 
“To be perfectly frank with you, I shall sell him con¬ 
ditionally, if at all, with the privilege of buying him back, 
at double the price, any time within three months. Give 
me twenty-five dollars for him, and if I don’t pay you fifty 
wuthin ninety days, the dog is yours. I’m willing to put 
that in writing.” 

“ I have n’t got twenty-five dollars in the world,” said 
Cliff, his eyes glistening with excitement as he looked ap¬ 
pealingly at his companions, “and I could n’t raise so 
much.” 

“ How much can you raise ? ” 

“ I don’t know.” 


A ROMANTIC STORY 


15 


Cliff walked aside with Quint, two or three others 
following. 

“ Yon don’t really think of buying him, do you ? ” said 
Ike Ingalls. 

“ I would, in a minute, if I could,’ 7 said Cliff. “ He 7 s 
just wonderful! Say, Quint, what do you say to going in 
with me ? 77 

“I 7 m afraid 7 t would n’t work well for two boys to 
own one dog, 77 replied Quint5 “but I should like to see 
you own him, and I ’ll lend you a little money, if you 
like.” 

“Will you?” said Cliff, eagerly. 

“ Yes j but let me give you something else first: that 7 s 
advice. You are worked up now; you are more excitable 
than I am. You 7 d better wait till you 7 ve had time to 
think it over and ask your folks. You want to do a thing 
like this when your head is cool.” 

“My head is cool enough,” said Cliff. “But, cool or 
hot, I want that dog! As for my folks, I know they 
would n’t consent, if I should ask them. But if I take him 
home, show his tricks, and let on by degrees that I 7 ve 
bought him conditionally, to double my money when the 
owner comes for him,—if he ever does come: I shall hope 
he won’t!—I don’t think they ’ll say much.” 

“ Well, you know best about it,” said Quint. “ I ’ve got 
four or five dollars at home I can let you have.” 

“ I can lend you three dollars,” Ike Ingalls whispered, 
eager to see the trade go on. 

Dick Swan offered to advance two more, likewise inter- 




16 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


ested in seeing so wonderful a dog brought into the neigh¬ 
borhood. 

“Now, don’t you appear too anxious!” Quint warned 
his enthusiastic friend. 

“ Oh, no ! ” said Cliff, with flushed cheeks and suffused 
eyes. “ I’m as cool as a cucumber in an ice-house! n 


THE STRANGER AND HIS DOG PART COMPANY 19 


appreciation of good acting to make such an offer for such 
a performer as my dog Sparkler. Why, sir, it would make 
him blush—it would make him hang his head for shame 
—to be sold for a paltry sum like that! ” 

It certainly made Cliff ashamed, to have the pettiness 
of his offer held up to contempt in this way, and he 
would have blushed, if his face had n’t been so very red 
before. He murmured something about having no more 
money. 

“ But your friends will lend you some; I see it in their 
eyes. Now, I ’ll tell you what I ’ll do. I believe you ’ll be 
a kind master; and I saw, when you were stroking him, 
that he had taken a liking to you. He knows a good dog- 
lover when he sees one, and he picked you out of the 
crowd. Give me twenty dollars, and the privilege of buy¬ 
ing him back at forty,.and he’s yours.” 

u I ’ll give you ten,” said Cliff, quickly. 11 That’s all I 
will give.” 

The other boys looked eagerly from his face to that of 
the young man, in which they saw signs of relenting. As 
Cliff could n’t be moved to raise his offer, the owner finally 
said: 

“ And I hold the right to buy him back ? ” 
u Yes,” replied Cliff, “at double the price.” 

The young man laughed, and shrugged. 

“ On the whole,” he said, “ I think that will be as well 
for me. I shall save money when I come to reclaim him; 
and the ten dollars will take me as far as Buffalo, where 
I have friends who will help me over the rest of the jour- 


20 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


ney. I would n't have sold him outright, if you had offered 
a hundred.” 

He took a small cord from his pocket, which he made 
fast to the dog’s collar. 

“This is hardly necessary,” he observed, “for if I tell 
him to go with you he will go j but it will be safer to place 
him under some restraint until I get well out of the way. 
I shall hurry down to the Junction, and take the first west¬ 
bound train.” He stood ready to put the loose end of the 
cord into Cliff’s hand. “Now, where’s your ten dollars, 
young man ? ” 

“These boys are going to get it for me,” said Cliff. 
“ They live nearer here than I do. You ’ll give me a bill 
of sale?” 

“ Certainly, if you require it. Hurry up, and I ’ll wait 
here.” 

Some of the boys went with Cliff and Quint, while the 
rest remained in the delightful company of the perform¬ 
ing dog and his master. In a short time those who had 
departed came running back, Cliff at their head, and Quint 
lagging in the rear; and Cliff, out of breath, paid with 
trembling hands his borrowed money. He received, in 
return, the end of the cord, and a leaf torn from the 
stranger’s note-book. On this was penciled a memorandum 
of the transaction, signed “A. K. Winslow.” 

“My usual signature,” said the dog’s late owner, 
“though I may as well tell you that the A. stands for 
Algernon and the K. for Knight, and that my address will 
be Battle Creek, Michigan, till further notice. That is 


THE STRANGER AND HIS DOG PART COMPANY 21 


your receipted bill, with the redemption clause inserted. 
Now here is something for you to sign.” 

He held out his open note-book, in which CM read, on 
a penciled page: 

“ Purchased of A. K. Winslow, for ten dollars ($ 10 ), his 
trick-dog Sparkler, which I agree to re-deliver to him, or 
to his order, on the payment of twice that sum ($20), any 
time within three months.” 

This, like the bill of sale, was duly dated; and CM, 
after consulting with Quint, who thought it“ judgmatical,” 
gave it his signature. 

“ I keep this, you keep that, and these friends of yours 
are our witnesses,” said Algernon Knight Winslow, in the 
best of spirits, notwithstanding the present necessity of 
parting from his four-footed companion. “ Sparkler, look 
alive! ” 

The dog sat up, with fore legs lifted, while his late master 
addressed him, with one forefinger pointed impressively: 

“ Sparkler, sharer of my fortunes, will you go with this 
young gentleman who holds you by the cord, stay with him 
faithfully, serve him obediently, and perform tricks for 
him as you would for me, till I send or come myself to 
claim you ? Answer! ” 

Sparkler regarded him with half-closed, sleepy-looking 
eyes, and dropped one paw. 

“That means yes,” said Algernon K. Winslow. “And 
now you have him.” 

“You don’t mean to say he takes in all you’ve been 
saying ? ” Cliff queried wonderingly. 


22 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


u He takes in the gist of it as well as either of you. Now, 
with regard to his tricks”—and Mr. Winslow went on to 
give Cliff some useful hints on that all-important subject. 

The dog was never to be whipped under any circum¬ 
stances, but always to be treated kindly, and rewarded 
with nice bits from the table after each performance. 

“ And I advise you to feed him as soon as you get home; 
for he has been on rather short allowance lately. Now, 
good-by! Farewell! Adieu! Au revoir! Till we meet 
again! ” cried A. K. Winslow, gaily. 

Cliff had still some questions to ask regarding the tricks, 
which being obligingly answered, he said, “ Come, Spar¬ 
kler ! ” and set off, cord in hand, accompanied by the dog, 
that went as readily as if he had been acting one of his 
well-understood parts. 

Cliff was overjoyed; and his friends, running beside him 
and the leashed animal, were almost as jubilant as he. 
Next to owning a trick-dog is the pleasure of having a 
friend own one. 

“ By-by! ” Algernon K. Winslow called after them, wav¬ 
ing his hand, as he turned and walked smilingly away. 


IV 

CLIFF BRINGS HOME HIS PURCHASE 

AND’S sake alive! What ; s up?” ex 
claimed Mrs. Chantry, looking from the 
window of the old Chantry farm-house, 
and seeing a rabble of boys, headed by 
her son Clifford, leading a strange dog, 
turn in at the gate. 

On their way through the village the original party of 
six or seven had been joined by other boys, eager to hear 
about the dog; and now two more, younger brothers of 
Cliff, ran out from the barn to meet the astonishing pro¬ 
cession. 

“ What ye got there ? Where’d ye get that dog ? ” cried 
the younger brothers (aged twelve and ten), almost with 
one voice. 

“ Bought him ! ” replied Cliff, walking proudly on, fol¬ 
lowed by his rabble. 

“ Who of ? What did ye give ? What 7 s he good for ? ” 
clamored the younger brothers, falling into the ranks. 

“ He ’s a trick-dog, and he ? s worth a hundred dollars! ” 
23 







24 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


said Sparkler’s new owner. “ Now just keep quiet, and 
let me get him tied up in the woodhouse before you scare 
him to death. I ’ll tell you all about it in a minute, ma! ” 
he cried, passing on to the rear of the house, regardless of 
his mother’s expostulations. 

She intercepted him at the back door. 

“ Tell me now! Stop right where you are ! ” she com¬ 
manded him. “Have you been buying a dog without 
permission from your father or me?” 

“ I did n’t have time to get permission $’t would n’t do 
to let such a chance slip. He’s just the knowingest dog 
you ever saw or heard of. You and pa will both say it’s 
all right when I tell you,” said Cliff, leading his prize and 
his mob of boys into the woodshed—a barn-like addition 
to the house, with one large door opening into the back 
yard, and a smaller one within communicating with the 
kitchen. 

“ The boy’s out of his head! ” Mrs. Chantry exclaimed. 
“ I should think they had all broken out of bedlam. Amos 
and Trafton have run wild with the rest. Where are 
you going, Susie ? ” 

“ I want to see the dog,” said Susie, a fourteen-year-old 
sister of Cliff’s. 

“ I declare, you ’re crazy too ! Did n’t anybody ever see 
a dog before ? ” cried the mother, impatiently, but not ill- 
naturedly, for she was one of the indulgent sort. u Run 
and find your father, and tell him if he does n’t want his 
woodhouse turned into a pandemonium, he’d better come 
quick! ” 




CLIFF BRINGS HOME HIS PURCHASE 


25 


Having got Sparkler into the woodshed, and fastened 
him by his cord to the leg of a grindstone, Cliff told his 
brothers they might“ just stroke his ears a little,” but not 
to “fool with him,” and charged Quint Whistler to look 
out for the other boys, who were crowding around; then 
he went bustling into the kitchen, calling out: 

“ What can I feed him ? Say, ma, what can I give my 
dog to eat ? ” 

“That ’s a strange how-d’e-do! ” Mrs. Chantry exclaimed j 
“ before you Ve told me what dog it is, or how you came 
by him! As if I was your servant, to feed any stray 
creetur’ you choose to bring into the house! ” 

“ He is n’t a 1 stray creetur’ ’! ” cried Cliff, “ and I don’t 
ask you to feed him; I ’ll do that myself. The man I had 
him of said cold chicken was particularly nice for him.” 

He was already on his way to the cellar, where the cold 
victuals were kept. 

“ Precious little cold chicken he or any other dog will 
get in this house! ” his mother called after him from the 
head of the stairs. “ And don’t give him too much of that 
cold roast veal, either! I want enough left to hash up 
for breakfast. Be sure and shut the cover tight. The 
idee of bringing in a hungry whelp to eat us out of house 
and home! ” 

“ What else is there ? ” cried Cliff from below, his voice 
sounding hollow and distant, as if he had his head in the 
ice-chest. 

“ Maybe he ’ll eat a cold potato, or some bread soaked 
in milk. Most dogs like bread and milk.” 


26 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


She handed down a plate and a knife, which Cliff 
reached up for from the stairway; and, having relieved 
her feelings by scolding him for his folly, she afterward 
helped him prepare a bountiful repast for Sparkler. She 
even showed her interest in his strange purchase so far as to 
go and stand in the doorway that opened from the kitchen 
into the woodshed, and see the “ stray creetur’ ” fed. 

There she was found by Susie, returning from the errand 
to her father. 

“ You are not going to be crazy too, are you, ma!” said 
the girl, mischievously. 

The good woman’s countenance, which she endeavored 
to keep severe, beamed with kindness and curiosity. 

11 Law, no, child! ” she said; 11 but I want to see that 
good victuals ain’t wasted. I don’t wonder you are sur¬ 
prised, father! ” 

“ Father ” was the father of her children—a sturdy, red¬ 
faced farmer, with a shaven chin hedged by long side- 
whiskers, who had just appeared at the outer door of the 
woodshed. This door had been shut to prevent the pos¬ 
sible escape of the dog; but he opened it to the width of 
his broad shoulders, and looked in with a scowl of humor¬ 
ous amazement. 

“What ’s all this?” he demanded. “I should think 
Barnum’s 1 Greatest Show on Earth ’ had emptied itself on 
my premises! ” Over the heads of the smaller boys he 
saw tall Quint Whistler standing by the grindstone, keep¬ 
ing back the crowd while the dog ate. “ That your dog, 
Quint?” 


CLIFF BRINGS HOME HIS PURCHASE 


27 


“ No; I don’t own so much as a wag of his tail. Wish 
I did! ” said Quint. 

“He’s got a mortgage on him; so have I,” said Ike 
Ingalls. “ He’s a trick-dog, and a buster! ” 

Just then Cliff got up from the floor, where he was 
kneeling by the plate, in rapturous satisfaction at the way 
its contents disappeared dowm the dog’s throat. 

“ He’s my dog,” he said, turning only the side of his 
flushed face toward the outer door, without venturing to 
look at his father. “ He’s been trained to do almost any¬ 
thing. There ’s no end to the tricks he can perform. 
And he’s a good watch-dog. Look at Dick’s coat-sleeve! 
He got that tear trying to pull a coat away from him after 
he had been told to guard it.” 

The mouth between the long side-whiskers worked with 
grim humor, and said sarcastically: 

“ There seems to be another thing he can do pretty well 
—dispose of a plate of victuals! Did you pick him up in 
the street?” 

“No, I did n’t. You can’t pick up such dogs as this in 
the street, nor anywhere else,” Cliff replied, with spirit. 

“ He bought him,” spoke up his younger brother Amos, 
his face in a broad grin. 

All eyes turned again to the father in the doorway, who 
gave a tugging pull at the fleece of his left whisker, and 
exclaimed: 

“You did n’t pay money for a mangy cur like that, I 
hope!” 

“He is n’t a mangy cur! ” Cliff declared indignantly. 


28 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


He did n’t know just what 11 mangy” meant, but inferred 
that it must be something discreditable. “ He’s just as 
nice as he can be. I had to pay a little money for him— 
a very little; but you won’t blame me when you see the 
kind of dog he is. I have n’t bought him outright, either; 
I expect his owner will come for him, and pay me well for 
his keep, inside of three months. Here, ma, take the plate. 
He has licked it clean of everything but the cold potato. 
Now, stand a little farther off, boys, and I ’ll show you his 
tricks.” 


THE ORIGIN OF THE WORD “ DOGGED 


SPACE was cleared for the first exhibition 
of Cliffs wonderful trick-dog. Some 
of the spectators climbed upon the piled 
wood; one stood on the frame of the 
grindstone, another on the chopping- 
block, two or three sat on a board placed 
across the tops of empty barrels, and the rest of the boys 
filled up the ring. 

In the midst stood Quint Whistler and Ike Ingalls, in 
the distinguished capacity of Cliffs Counselors and assis¬ 
tants—thus favored because they had advanced money for 
the purchase. Dick Swan’s mother had refused to let him 
lend his money, greatly to his disappointment; but he 
had the next place, on account of the good will he had 
shown. 

In the kitchen door stood smiling Mrs. Chantry, with 
Susie clinging excitedly to her elbow. Amos and Trafton 
were on the steps below. The father’s broad shoulders and 
straight-brimmed straw hat were defined against the after- 

29 









30 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


noon light in the partly opened woodshed door, the sar¬ 
castic smile still playing about his mouth. 

Cliff held in one hand the end of the cord, which he had 
detached from the leg of the grindstone, and in the other 
a thin stick of pine kindlings. At his feet was the dog, 
couched on his paws, with his tongue out, looking com¬ 
placent after his meal. 

“ Make him jump the first thing,” said Ike Ingalls, proud 
of his part in the show. Then, turning to Mr. Chantry : 
“He can jump over my head; he did it down on the 
shore.” 

“ Get up, Sparkler! ” Cliff commanded. 

Sparkler lolled, without stirring from his comfortable 
position. 

“ Say 1 Look alive/ ” Quint suggested in a low voice. 

“ Look alive! ” Cliff repeated in a tone of authority. 

As the trick-dog still showed no disposition to obey, he 
gave the cord a jerk which brought him to his feet. 

“Now jump ! ” he said, holding his stick about eighteen 
inches from the floor, while Ike Ingalls made the nearest 
boys take a step or two backward, to give ample room for 
the leap. 

But it was a useless trouble. Sparkler never moved. 

“You hold it too high, to begin with,” said Quint. 

So Cliff lowered the stick a few inches, and again com¬ 
manded: “Jump, now!”—with no better result. 

“ Lower yet! ” whispered Quint. 

Cliff did so, and repeated his commands, at the same 
time jerking the cord to rouse the wonderful trick-dog 


THE ORIGIN OF THE WORD “DOGGED 


31 


from his indifference. But Sparkler only lolled and looked 
stupid. 

“ Lay the stick on the floor,” said the whiskered face in 
the doorway. “ Maybe he ’ll walk over it.” 

The spectators began to titter. Cliff, confused, covered 
with perspiration and blushes, pulled the cord, and knocked 
the dog’s paws with the stick, repeating sharply, “ Jump, 
I say! ” But Sparkler hung back. 

The mother’s face wore a look of disappointment, and 
of pity for her son’s humiliation. But the whiskered 
visage in the doorway was wreathed with ironic smiles. 

“ He can jump, but he won’t,” said Ike Ingalls. “ He’s 
balky.” 

“He’s showing us the origin of the word ‘dogged,’” 
said the amused farmer. 

“He did n’t like it because you yanked him by the 
cord,” Quint Whistler argued. “Don’t you remember, 
his owner said you must never be rough with him ? ” 

“ I did n’t think I was rough,” Cliff replied. 

He found a handkerchief somewhere in his pockets, and 
wiped his forehead, still looking down, with a face of per¬ 
plexity and disgust, at the disobedient beast. 

“Another thing he said, too, which I ’d forgotten,” 
Quint proceeded: “ he said he must be fed after a per¬ 
formance, not before. You could n’t expect him to jump 
after a full meal.” 

“ That’s so ! ” Cliff assented, with a long breath. 

“ Try making him sit up,” said Dick Swan. 

Cliff was averse to the attempt, in the present state of 


32 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


the canine appetite $ but as Dick’s suggestion was clamor¬ 
ously backed up by the crowd of boys, and there was still 
a possibility of the dog’s redeeming his sunken reputation, 
he stroked and coaxed him, and finally, remembering the 
late owner’s word and gesture, threw up the hand that held 
the stick, and cried out cheerily: 

“ Look alive, now! Look alive, Sparkler! ” 

Sparkler looked anything but alive j on the contrary, he 
looked quite asleep as he stretched himself out, closing his 
languid eyes, by the leg of the grindstone. 

“ What a wonderful dog! Oh, Cliff! ” jeered the boys 
who had previously been most envious of his purchase. 
“ Why don’t you brag some more about him ? ” 

“ There, there, boys! don’t make fun,” said Mrs. Chantry. 
“ And don’t feel bad, my son. The best of us are liable to 
be deceived in a bargain.” 

“ Say, Cliff! how much did you give ? ” asked his brother 
Amos. 

The father laughed pitilessly. 

“If he gave ten cents, he got swindled,” was his cruel 
comment. “ Now, quit your nonsense, and come and help 
me mend the pig-pen. When I said you could go in swim¬ 
ming, I did n’t expect you to bring home a beggarly pup 
to fool with all the afternoon.” 

Cliff stood for some moments with bent brows, eying 
the “dogged” dog with extreme discontent. When he 
raised his head, his father’s unwelcome face had disap¬ 
peared, and his mother had drawn Susie back into the 
kitchen. The crowd was beginning to disperse, some 



THE THREE DOLLARS AND A HALF I LENT YOU 





















THE ORIGIN OF THE WORD “DOGGED” 


35 


laughing as they went, others lingering to hear what Cliff 
would have to say. 

One lingered from a different motive; that was Ike 
Ingalls. 

“ If you’d just as lieves pay me the three dollars and a 
half I lent you—” he began in a low voice, at Cliff’s ear. 

Cliff turned upon him a scornful scowl. 

“ I ’ll pay you so quick it ’ll make your head swim! ” he 
exclaimed, loud enough for all to hear. “You were glad 
enough to lend it and help me buy the dog, and you felt 
easy enough about it till you began to think I’d been 
cheated. Ame, go up to my room and get my money-pouch 
out of the till of my chest j and say nothing to anybody.” 

u Don’t mind about paying me,” said Quint. “ I would n’t 
ask for my money if I knew you’d bought a worthless 
dog; but I don’t believe you have. You could n’t expect 
him to perform tricks in a crowd of strangers, before he’d 
got well acquainted with you.” 

“No; he has n’t got used to his new master,”said Dick 
Swan, encouragingly. “ I would n’t come down on you 
for my money, would I ? I’m sorrier ’n I was before, ma 
would n’t let me lend it to you.” 

u You ’re all right, Dick; so is Quint,” Cliff replied, his 
brows clearing. “ So am I! I don’t give him up as a bad 
job—not yet! His dinner made him logy; that’s what’s 
the matter. Then again, father looking on, the way he 
did, made me nervous. I knew he was just waiting to 
laugh at me. Ten cents! ” the boy repeated, with a dis¬ 
mal laugh. 


36 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ You never must be nervous when you are training an 
animal / 7 Quint remarked. “ That ’s so with horses, and it 
must be so with dogs. He ’ll come out all right, I know! 
If he does n’t, you need n’t pay me back more than half 
my money; for it was partly my fault, your buying him.” 

“By Jehu, Quint!” Cliff exclaimed, with a burst of 
grateful feeling, “ you are a whole load of bricks! But I 
shall pay you every cent, all the same—sometime, if not 
to-day. Give it here, Ame”-to the boy bringing the 
pouch. 

Cliff untied the string, and began to count out silver 
half-dollars. Ike, meanwhile, feeling that his eagerness to 
receive back his loan contrasted unfavorably with Quint’s 
more generous conduct, and with what Dick would like¬ 
wise have done in his place, looked furtively around for 
evidences of his own waning popularity on the faces of his 
companions. 

“ Here, Ike ! ” said Cliff, jingling seven half-dollars in his 
extended palm. 

Ike was conscious of a chilly social atmosphere sur¬ 
rounding him; but he was nevertheless glad to see his 
money again. 

“ I did n’t want you to think I was in any hurry for my 
pay,” he said, as he reached out his hand for it. “I 
thought—” 

“ That’s all right, Ike,” said Cliff, without any show of 
resentment. “I can give you a part of yours, Quint—” 

“ No; leave it now,” replied Quint; “ or—just as you 
say.” And, Cliff insisting, he took the last of the silver 


THE ORIGIN OF THE WORD 11 DOGGED n 


37 


which Cliff withdrew from the pouch. “ Now don’t worry 
about the rest; let it go till—what ’s his name ?—A. K. 
Winslow buys back his dog,” he added, with a droll smile. 

“ Not a word, boys, about this money,” Cliff cautioned his 
brothers. “ I prefer to tell father myself. Now, fellows, 
I ’ve got to shut up here. Sorry to turn you out, but”— 
tying the dog’s cord again to the leg of the grindstone— 
“ father wants me, and I’m going to leave Master Spar¬ 
kler to meditate on his disgraceful conduct.” 

Having got the last of the boys out of the woodshed, and 
shut the large outer door, he beckoned Quint to remain, 
and said to him confidentially: 

u Can’t you come around this evening ? When every¬ 
thing is quiet, and he has digested his dinner, I am going 
to try him again, and see if he ’ll do his tricks any better 
on an empty stomach.” 


VI 



“DID N’t I TELL YOU SO?” 

HILE the two were at work repairing 
the pig-pen, Mr. Chantry forbore to ask 
any questions regarding the “ beggarly 
pup ” his son had brought home. 

“ What he has to sajr about that will 
keep,” Cliff reflected ruefully, remem¬ 
bering that the paternal sarcasms never lost any of their 
pungency by being well cogitated. That they were effer¬ 
vescing he could see by an occasional quiet smile in which 
his father indulged; but he was glad to have them kept in 
for the present. 

“ After I ’ve had another chance to try Sparkler,” the 
boy said to himself, “then he may ask questions and have 
his joke.” 

Mr. Chantry was particularly fond of a joke at his chil¬ 
dren’s expense. He never beat them, but his stinging 
ridicule was often worse than a whip. 

“ If Sparkler does n’t sparkle next time, and I have to tell 
what I paid for him, won’t I get it! ” thought Cliff, watch- 
38 







“DID N'T I TELL YOU SO?" 


39 


ing the satirical quirk of the mouth in its parenthesis of 
long, fine whiskers. 

The afternoon waned, they finished their work, and the 
subject uppermost in one mind, if not in both, was not 
once mentioned. At the supper-table Susie and the 
younger boys could talk of nothing but the dog in the 
woodshed; and the mother scolded about it in her mild 
way, alternately blaming Cliff for bringing the “ creetur’ ” 
home, and blaming the “ creetur’” for ungratefully refus¬ 
ing to perform his tricks after he had been fed so bounti¬ 
fully. 

“ He ’s been asleep almost ever since you left him,” said 
Amos. u I should n’t think he’d had any more sleep than 
victuals lately. He would n’t even open his eyes for me.” 

11 1 told you not to go near him! ” said Cliff, severely. 

“ I had to go there for an armful of wood,” was the 
younger brother’s excuse. “ You ’ll have to put him into 
a bandbox, if he’s too precious to be looked at or spoken 
to; or hang him in the well, as we do butter in hot wea¬ 
ther, when we are out of ice.” 

The youngster’s grin was a very good reduced copy of 
the father’s amused, ironic smile. The two were very 
much alike, but for the paternal whiskers and a difference 
of some thirty years in their ages. 

After supper the cows were to be milked, and other 
evening chores to be done; and all the while the dog was 
left to his dreams and reflections in the darkening wood¬ 
shed. It was deep dusk when Quint Whistler strolled in 
at the front gate, and Cliff went out to meet him. 


40 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ How 7 s your ten-cent pup ? 77 Quint inquired. 

“ He 7 s humble, and I hope penitent/ 7 said Cliff. “ Now, 
if we can have him alone, we 7 11 see whether he can per¬ 
form tricks, or whether we 7 ve dreamt it. 77 

He let Quint into the woodshed, and went to the kitchen 
for a lamp. This he brought, followed by the younger 
boys, whom he cautioned to “keep quiet and hold their 
tongues 77 if they wanted to see the show. 

“Now, Sparkler, 77 he said, proceeding to remove the 
cord from the collar, “ remember what you promised Mr. 
Winslow, and be a good dog. Treat me well, and I 7 11 
treat you well. 77 

“I believe he understands, 77 said Quint. “See how 
knowing he looks! I believe he 7 s laughing! 77 

“We 7 11 all laugh soon! 77 Cliff exclaimed hopefully, look¬ 
ing for a suitable stick in the pile of kindling-wood. 
“Shut that door, Susie! 77 

“ Father says, bring the dog in, 77 replied the girl, look¬ 
ing down from the kitchen doorway. 

“Jehu! I can’t do that! 77 Cliff muttered; “it 7 11 spoil 
everything. Tell him I don’t want to—just yet. 77 

Susie disappeared, but returned with a peremptory 
message. 

“ He says, bring him in, whether you want to or not. If 
there 7 s a show, he wants to see it.” 

“ There won’t be any show if I have him looking on and 
making fun,” Cliff growled. “ I suppose I shall have to, 
though. When he says a thing like that, he means it. 
You come too, Quint, and back me up. I know he won’t 


“DID N’T I TELL YOU SO?” 


41 


do a tiling! 77 And he threw down the stick in bitter dis¬ 
couragement. 

To his surprise, Sparkler picked it up, and stood, with 
wagging tail, ready to follow him. 

“ See that! see that! 77 cried Amos and Trafton together. 
11 He 7 s going to perform! 77 

11 It looks more like it, sure! 77 said Cliff, thrilled with 
joyous expectation. “ Out of the way, boys! 77 Then, to 
Susie: ‘‘Have all the doors shut, in there; for it 7 s a 
strange place, and there 7 s no knowing what he may 
do. 77 

Preceded by the boys, and followed by Sparkler bearing 
the stick, Cliff entered the large, old-fashioned, lamp-lighted 
kitchen, Quint lagging awkwardly behind. 

Mrs. Chantry at the same time came in from a room 
beyond, with a half-knitted stocking in her hand. The 
bright needles shone in the lamplight, and a dark thread 
of yarn meandered down across her white apron to a 
pocket, a bulge in which showed where the ball was 
lodged. Her kindly face was crinkled with smiles of an¬ 
ticipation as she saw Sparkler trotting along with the 
stick in his teeth. 

Backed up toward a corner, under the clock, sat Mr. 
Chantry in a splint-bottomed rocker, parting his long, 
fleecy side-whiskers away from his shaven mouth and chin 
with the fingers of both hands, as his frequent habit was 
when preparing for a little pleasantry at the expense of 
the youngsters. Cliff, without looking at him, perceived 
the motion, and knew that his fathers lips were twitching 


42 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


and his eyes twinkling in a manner that boded mischief; 
but he determined not to be disconcerted by him. 

“ Come along, Quint! ” he cried, with an air of confi¬ 
dence. “ Ame, give him a chair.” 

“ I ’m all right,” said Quint, placing a flat stick across 
a corner of the wood-box, and sitting on it. 

With his hat removed, exposing a high, robust forehead, 
he was a good-looking fellow, notwithstanding his dispro¬ 
portionate nose. He held his hat on his knee, and put an 
arm around Trafton, the youngest boy, standing at his 
side. 

Cliff made his mother sit down, and placed a chair for 
himself beside the table. There was a hush of suspense, 
in which the old clock was heard ticking loudly, and the 
farmer’s chair squeaking as he rocked gently. 

Cliff sat down, with the dog at his feet looking up in¬ 
quiringly into his face. 

“Sparkler,” said he, “what are you going to do with 
that stick ? ” 

Immediately Sparkler got on his hind legs, holding up 
the stick before his new master. The youngsters shrieked 
with delight. 

“ I declare, if that ain’t complete ! ” said the mother, stay¬ 
ing her hands, which had begun to ply the knitting-needles 
vigorously. 

Mr. Chantry stopped rocking; he even stopped stroking 
his whiskers. 

Trembling with joy, yet almost afraid to ask anything 
else of the dog, Cliff took the stick. Sparkler sat erect, 


“DID N’T I TELL YOU SO?” 


43 


with his fore paws at his breast, and his bright, soft eyes 
wistfully studying his young master's face. 

“ Are you going to jump for me ? ” Cliff asked in a tone 
of affectionate comradeship. 

The dog's whole body gave an eager start, his tail 
wagged, and one paw dropped. 

“ That means ‘ yes,'" Quint interpreted, from his seat on 
the wood-box. 

Cliff could hardly keep from hugging the animal, so in¬ 
tense was his delight. 

“ Jump, then ! " he said, holding out the stick. Sparkler 
leaped over it. “ Higher!” he cried, suiting the action to 
the word. “ Higher yet! Higher! " At each command, 
with its accompanying upward movement of the stick, the 
dog leaped to and fro with extraordinary liveliness, de¬ 
scribing at each rebound a loftier curve. 

“ Did n’t I tell you so ?" said Cliff, triumphantly, with 
tears of pride and joy shining in his eyes. “He could 
jump over Arne's head; but I won't have him try, on this 
hard floor.” 

11 Oh, yes; let him,” said Amos. “ I never had a dog 
jump over my head.” 

“ Well, bring a rug for him to come down on,” said Cliff. 

But seeing that Sparkler was panting, Quint suggested 
that he should be allowed to rest a minute. 

“ Winslow,” he said, “ always let him rest between his 
tricks. He's no slouch, is he, boys 1 ” 

Mrs. Chantry joined with the children in praising 
Sparkler's nimbleness and docility. Her husband forgot 


44 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


his whiskers, forgot his sarcasms, and leaned forward, 
with his arms on the arms of the chair, hardly less inter¬ 
ested than the rest, although still wary of committing him¬ 
self by any word of approval. The dog might yet make 
a failure, and give him an opportunity to get in some of 
his cutting remarks. 


VII 

CLIFF TRIUMPHANT 

ug put in place, and Sparkler hav- 
recovered his breath, he made the 
) over Arne’s head in a manner that 
Lted applause from everybody but 
non-committal farmer. 

Now, roll over! ” said Cliff 5 which 
Sparkler promptly did, choosing the rug for his perform¬ 
ance. Then Cliff cried, “ Look alive! n and Sparkler was 
erect before him in a moment. “ Give me a handkerchief, 
somebody.” 

Susie gave him hers, and he wrapped it around the end 
of the stick, which he set up between his feet. 

11 That’s supposed to be a fire, and he’s going to warm 
his hands. Warm your hands, Sparkler ! which the dog 
did, sitting erect before the handkerchief, and holding up 
his paws before it with amusing mimicry. 

u How’s that for a ten-cent pup ? ” Quint asked in his 
dry way, as soon as the tumult of admiring exclamations 
had subsided. 



45 




46 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“Ten cents!” exclaimed Mrs. Chantry. “You don’t 
mean to say that’s what you paid! ” 

Cliff said nothing, hut sat patting Sparkler’s head, and 
breathing fast with excitement. 

“ That’s the price father guessed, and told Cliff he got 
cheated if he paid it,” tittered Amos, while the father 
smiled and watched the dog. 

“ Now I ’ll try his great trick, though I’m by no means 
sure it will succeed,” said Cliff. “ How is it, Sparkler ? ” 
Sparkler sat up. “Will you do your best?” 

He dropped one of his fore paws affirmatively, and the 
children cried out in jubilant chorus: “ He will! He says 
he will! ” 

Then Cliff laid in a row on the floor, before the kitchen 
sink, the handkerchief, the stick, and one of the boys’ hats, 
calling each article by name as he placed it. 

“ Now, father,” he said, “ which shall he fetch ? ” 

Before Mr. Chantry could speak,—if, indeed, he was 
ready to take part in the exhibition he had expected to 
ridicule,—the boys clamored for the hat; and Mrs. Chan¬ 
try said: “Yes, Cliff; I’d like to see him fetch the hat.” 

Sparkler looked up inquiringly into Cliff’s face. 

“Fetch the hat,” said Cliff; and the dog, obeying 
promptly, brought the hat and put it into his hands. 

“ It is past belief! ” Mrs. Chantry exclaimed. “ There’s 
witchery in it! ” 

“ The witchery is all in his superior knowingness,” said 
Cliff, proudly. “You ’ve no idea yet how bright he is. 
Fetch the stick, Sparkler! ” 


CLIFF TRIUMPHANT 


47 


Sparkler brought the stick. Then Cliff replaced all the 
articles, and asked his father for a piece of money. Mr. 
Chantry hesitated, lifting his brows and looking quizzical, 
but finally put his hand in his pocket and produced a half- 
dollar. Cliff placed it under the hat. 

11 He ’ll go straight for that, of course,” said Amos. 

“ You ’ll see,” Cliff answered. “ Ask for anything else.” 
So Amos named the handkerchief, which Sparkler 
brought, after waiting for his master to repeat the order. 
Then Cliff said: 11 Fetch the money from under the hat ” 
—which the dog did, after experiencing some difficulty in 
getting the coin between his teeth. 

Then Mr. Chantry for the first time opened his lips— 
not, however, to utter one of his premeditated sarcasms. 

11 How did you say you came by that dog ? ” 
u A man by the name of Winslow sold him to me, this 
afternoon, down by Gibson’s ice-house.” 

u I can’t conceive of the owner of a dog like that want¬ 
ing to sell him for any such price as a boy like you would 
be likely to give,” said Mr. Chantry, gravely. “ There 
must be some hidden reason back of it.” 

“ Oh, he told us the reason,” Cliff replied. u He was out 
of money, and he was on his way to his mother in Michi¬ 
gan. He was clerk in the big hotel in Bennington when 
it was burned two weeks ago. He lost everything by the 
fire, and that’s how he was obliged to part with the dog.” 
“ Big hotel in Bennington ? ” queried the father. 

“ Yes; the Stark Hotel, was n’t it, Quint?” 

“ Stark Hotel in Bennington! ” pondered the farmer. 


48 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


• 1 There may be a Stark Hotel there, for General Stark was 
a great man in that part of the country in Revolutionary 
times$ he was in the battle of Bennington. But that ’s a 
small town, and I don’t know what they wanted of a big 
hotel there.” 

“ Maybe for summer boarders,” Mrs. Chantry suggested. 

“ Possibly. But if any such great hotel has been burned 
lately, we should have seen something of it in the papers. 
And if he was on his way to Michigan, what brought him 
here f ” Mr. Chantry argued. “ This is out of his way.” 

11 He did n’t explain that,” said Cliff. u Oh, I remember! 
He was going to stop in Buffalo, where he has friends.” 

“ That does n’t better the matter. I’m afraid there’s 
some crookedness in the business. Ah ! ” Mr. Chantry 
had taken hold of the dog’s collar, and was examining it. 
“ No name, but here’s a place for one.” 

The strap was of maroon-colored leather, ornamented 
with a row of nickel studs set about an inch and a half 
apart. There were, however, two vacancies in this row- 
one where the collar buckled at the throat, the other 
where, instead of studs, there were two rivet-holes in the 
leather. 

Mr. Chantry held the dog between his knees, Cliff and 
Quint kneeling to examine the collar with him, while Mrs. 
Chantry, stooping, held the lamp. 

“I noticed those holes,” said Quint; “and I supposed 
two of the studs had been lost out.” 

“ It looks to me,” said the farmer, “ as if there had been 
a name-plate here, and as if it had been picked off—the 


CLIFF TRIUMPHANT 


49 


rivets pried out of the leather. I ; 11 wager something the 
fellow stole the dog.” 

“ I can’t think that! ” exclaimed Cliff. “ He was very 
particular to put it into the bargain that he was to have 
the privilege of buying him back. He made me give that 
to him in writing.” 

“ And did he give you any writing ? ” 

“ Yes; a regular bill of sale.” 

u Let me see it.” 

The paper was produced. Mr. Chantry read the writ¬ 
ing, pulled his left whisker, and mused: 

“ So you gave ten dollars in cash?” he said, lifting his 
eyes and looking straight at Cliff. 

“ Is n’t he worth it ? ” 

“ I should say he was, and a good deal more. I don’t 
at all approve of your buying him without my advice and 
consent; but’t was a temptation, and I sha’n’t whale you 
for it.” All the children laughed at what appeared to 
them as a good joke, Mr. Chantry (as we have hinted) not 
being in the habit of “ whaling ” his boys. “ Did you have 
money enough to pay for him ? ” 

“I still owe a little that I borrowed of Quint,” Cliff 
answered. 

« Pay it up,” said his father, taking out his pocket-book. 

But Cliff declined the proffered assistance. 

“Quint is willing to wait,” he said; “and I don’t want 
anybody to have a claim on the dog except me—and Mr. 
Winslow. All I’m afraid of now is that he ’ll be coming 
with his twenty dollars to get him back.” 


50 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“I guess you ’d better feed him a little now, had n’t 
you ? ” said his mother. “ He can have some bread and 
milk, as well as not.” 

“Let ’s have some more tricks first,” pleaded the 
youngsters. 

“Well, just one or two, to please the children,” she 
assented. 

“Oh, ma! ” Susie laughed, “you want to see the tricks 
just as much as we do. You know you do ! ” 

Cliff was glad to put Sparkler again through some of 
his performances, which all remained to see, although it 
was bedtime for the boys. Then the dog was petted and 
fed, and taken back to the woodshed. Cliff gave him the 
rug to lie on, and patted him and talked to him as he 
slipped the cord once more through his collar, and made 
him fast to the frame of the grindstone. 

“ I sha’n’t have to do this many times more,” he said to 
his friend Quint, standing by; “but for a while it’s best 
to be on the safe side. Forgive me, Sparkler.” 

Taking affectionate leave of the dog, who licked his 
hand, he went out with Quint, and walked home with him; 
and they talked over the adventure under the stars, for 
half an hour longer, standing at Quint’s gate. 

“ Well, good night, Quint! ” he said at parting. “ Has n’t 
it been a great day ? I owe ever so much to you! ” 

Then he returned home, to find his patient mother sit¬ 
ting up for him, after everybody else in the house had gone 
to bed. He took a last peep at his prize, curled up on the 
rug in the woodshed, saw that everything was quiet and 












CLIFF TRIUMPHANT 


53 


all doors fast, said 11 Good night ” to his mother in a voice 
thrilling with happiness, received from her hand a candle 
she had lighted for him, and went np-stairs to bed. He 
was soon asleep, and dreaming of dogs that conld swim in 
the air, balance poles on their noses, and play Brutus and 
Cassius for Mr. Algernon K. Winslow’s edification. 


VIII 

ONE OF SPARKLER’S TRICKS 

Cliff awoke in the morning, Spar- 
* was the first thing in his thoughts, 
hurriedly put on his clothes, and 
tened down-stairs, eager to learn 
r his pet had passed the night, also 
issure himself that the wonderful 
creature was a reality, and not a part of his vanished 
dreams. He was astonished to meet Amos at the foot of 
the chamber stairs. The boy was frightened, and hardly 
able to speak. 

“ What’s the matter ? ” Cliff demanded. 

“ Gone! ” Amos whimpered. 

u Who’s gone ? What’s gone 1 ” 

u The dog.” 

“ Not my trick-dog! Not Sparkler! ” Cliff exclaimed in 
wild consternation. 

“Yes! skedaddled!” said Amos. “I was hurrying to 
tell you.” 

“ Who let him go ? ” Cliff asked fiercely, rushing past him. 

54 







ONE OF SPARKLER’S TRICKS 


55 


“ I did n’t mean to,” whined Amos. “ I thought he was 
tied. I just opened the door to look at him, and he ran 
into the kitchen. That door was open, and he ran out.” 

“ He was tied! Who untied him ? Where is he ? ” 

Cliff was already out of the house. At the corner of the 
woodshed he met his mother, pale with excitement. 

“ Which way did he go ? ” he demanded, hardly pausing 
for her reply as he ran past her. 

“Down the road—toward the village,” she answered, 
catching her breath. “ He had a piece of the cord tied to 
his collar.” 

“ A piece of it ? ” cried Cliff, turning back. 

“ Yes; just a few inches. I was standing by the stove 
when he went by me like a flash—in at one door, and 
out of the other, in an instant. I had just time to follow 
and get another glimpse of him before he was out of 
sight.” 

Cliff hurried to the woodshed to examine the cord. He 
found it tied to the grindstone, as he had left it; but 
Sparkler was off with the end fastened to his collar. 

u He has gnawed it in two! ” Cliff moaned. 

Much the longer piece remained attached to the grind¬ 
stone. With sudden resolution, he untied it, twisted it 
into a loose ball, and thrust it into his pocket. 

u What are you going to do ? ” his mother asked, as he 
was hurrying from the woodshed. 

“ Follow him ! Find him and bring him back! ” 

II Eat your breakfast first! ” she entreated. 

II I have n’t a minute’s time! ” he declared. 


4 


56 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“You may be away longer than you think. I ’ll give 
you something to put into your pocket.” 

“ Hurry up, then ! ” 

He went with her into the kitchen, and came out pres¬ 
ently with a piece of berry-pie in his hand, and his pockets 
bulging. He met his father approaching from the barn. 

“ What’s the trouble ? ” cried the farmer. “ What’s the 
matter now ? ” 

“ My dog! ” said Cliff. “ He has gnawed off his cord and 
got away. Ame opened the door.” 

“ Bah! ” exclaimed his father. “ That ’s one of his 
tricks his owner did n’t tell you of. You never ’ll see him 
again.” 

“Yes, I will! He won’t go farther than the Junction, 
where Winslow was to take the train j or, if he does, I can 
trace him.” 

“ Let me go too ! ” Amos entreated. “ I can leg it as fast 
as Cliff can.” 

“ No, no ! ” said Mr. Chantry. “ It’s bad enough to have 
one boy start off on such a wild-goose chase. You ’d 
better not go far, Cliff! ” But Cliff was out of hearing, 
past the gate. “ I would n’t have had it happen for a good 
deal; I took quite a notion to that dog. Come, Amos ; you 
must help about the chores.” 

“I let him out, and I ought to go and help find him,” 
said Amos, making a merit of his share in the accident. 

Just then the youngest son appeared, with hair un¬ 
combed, staring wildly, and highly incensed because he 
had been allowed to sleep at a time of such excitement. 


ONE OF SPARKLER'S TRICKS 


57 


“Any other morning I should have been called six 
times! ” he complained. “ Why did n’t you ketch him by 
the tail, ma, when he shot by you I ” 

“ I might as well have tried to ketch a streak of lightning 
by the tail,” replied his mother. “ I just heard a pattering 
sound, and he was out in a jiffy. He’s a mile away by 
this time, I warrant! ” 


IX 


CLIFF IN PURSUIT 



LIFF ran fast until he came in sight of 
Quint Whistler’s home, on the outskirts 
of the village, and saw Quint himself 
standing in the open barn door. Quint’s 
father, a mason and contractor, had just 
driven away to look after some business 
in an adjoining town, leaving Quint to shut up the barn 
and take care of the premises. 

u Quint! Quint! ” called Cliff, from the street. “ My dog 
has got away! ” 

“ Grot away! ” Quint called back, beginning to walk fast 
toward the gate. u Which way did he go ? ” 

“ Right past your place here; at least, he started this 
way. He ’ll most likely go straight to the shore, where he 
saw his master last, and then try to track him.” Cliff 
stopped to gather breath, and added: “I’m so glad I ’ve 
found you! Come along, won’t you, and help me hunt 
him ? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Quint, doubtfully. “ As I was off 
58 









CLIFF IN PURSUIT 


59 


yesterday afternoon, I’m expected to do some hoeing in 
the garden this morning. That’s the order ! ” 

“ So was I expected to work to-day,” said Cliff, “ but I 
can make it np; and 111 help you for all the time you lose. 
We may overhaul him in an hour.” 

“ And it may take all day ! Besides, I have n’t had my 
breakfast,” Quint objected. 

“ Neither have I! Take a bite in your hand, and some¬ 
thing in your pockets, as I have.” 

As he spoke Cliff seemed to remember the wedge of pie 
he carried, which he had n’t yet thought of eating. He 
took a deep mouthful, staining his lips with the juice of 
the berries with which it was filled; while Quint, as 
deliberate in thought and action as his friend was im¬ 
petuous, balanced considerations. 

u Of course I must help you out of this,” he said at 
length. u I ’ll be with you in a minute.” 

He entered the house, and presently came out, stuffing 
his pockets with doughnuts. 

“ Whether it’s to be a long or a short chase,” he said, 
“you can count me in. I helped you buy him, and I ’ll 
stick by you as long as there’s a chance of running him 
down.” 

And the chase began. 

They learned by inquiries that Sparkler had kept on 
straight to the village, and had been seen taking the rail¬ 
road-track where it crossed the main street. 

u He has found the shortest cut to the shore,” said Cliff, 
surprised at this new evidence of the animal’s sagacity— 


60 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


the boys having conducted him by the more circuitous way 
of the streets, the day before. 

There was a well-trodden foot-path along the edge of the 
railroad embankment $ this they took, without pausing to 
look for dog-tracks, and soon reached the spot where Cliff 
had made his purchase. 

It was a fine summer morning. A gentle southwest 
wind was blowing cool across the lakej the sunshine glit¬ 
tered on the rippling water, and gilded the long grass and 
low willows that waved by the shore. But to give interest 
to the scene, in the eyes of Quint and Cliff, one small 
animate thing was needful—a dog that would have been 
to them, just then, the most delightful object within 
the ring of the horizon. But no dog was anywhere in 
sight. 

Two men were loading ice into a wagon backed up 
against the ice-house. Cliff called out to them. 

“ Yes,” one called back, in reply to his inquiries; u we 
saw a dog come down to the pond just a little while ago. 
He snuffed around awhile, and capered up and down, then 
started off down the railroad-track as fast as he could 
clip it.” 

“ He seemed to have a little piece of rope, or something, 
dangling from his neck,” said the other man. 

“ That ’s my dog! He*s gone straight to the Junction! 
We T1 overhaul him there! ” Cliff said confidently to his 
companion, as they hurried on. 

It was nearly a mile to the Junction. They kept the 
railroad-track all the way, but saw nothing of the fugitive. 


CLIFF IN PURSUIT 


61 


On the platform they found the station-master checking a 
trunk, and Cliff accosted him breathlessly. 

“No,” he said; “I have n’t noticed any such dog.” 

“ That is strange,” said Cliff. “ Did you sell a ticket, 
yesterday afternoon at about four o’clock, to a young man 
—had on a narrow-brimmed hat, kind of a checkered 
straw ? ” 

“ Stand-up collar, a little stained about the edges,” added 
Quint. “Small mustache—tip looked at a little distance 
as if it had been streaked with charcoal.” 

The station-master remembered him very well; he had 
sold him a ticket, and noticed that he had no baggage, not 
even a gripsack, when he stepped aboard the train. 

“ That’s all right! ” cried Cliff. “ That man sold me a 
dog yesterday. He was a trick-dog, and he got away this 
morning. We were afraid, if the man did n’t take the 
train, but kept afoot, the dog might track him. It looks 
as if he was honest! ” 

“ It looks more so than it did. But where’s the dog ? ” 
said Quint. 

The station-master called to a switch-tender, who ap¬ 
proached, and said, in answer to Cliff’s questions: 

“ Yes; I saw that very dog half or three quarters of an 
hour ago. I noticed the bit of rope hanging from his 
collar. He snuffed about the platform, and run in and 
out of the waiting-room; then all of a sudden he seemed 
to remember a previous engagement, and put out toward 
Tressel, with a full head of steam on.” 

“ Did he take the track ? ” Cliff asked. 


62 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ No 5 the street.” 

Tressel was a station a mile or more beyond, which 
could be reached by either highway or rail. 

“ Come on,” cried Cliff, eagerly. “ He’s going the wrong 
direction to find Winslow. He ’ll fetch np somewhere.” 

But Quint was deliberating. 

“ Wait a minute! I want to be sure of a thing or two. 
You say that man bought a ticket. Was it to go West ? ” 

“ No,” said the station-master; “ he bought a ticket for 
Kilbird.” 

Kilbird being the first station beyond Tressel, Cliff was 
astonished. 

“He said he was going West! ” 

“ No matter what he said; he took the east-bound accom¬ 
modation train, sure! ” said the station-master, positively. 
He was beginning to show a kindly interest in the two 
boys and their adventure. 

It took Cliff a moment to recover from his bewilder¬ 
ment ; then he turned to Quint, and said: 

11 1’d like your company ever so much, and I don’t know 
what I shall do without you—you think of more things than 
I do, and look further ahead. But I’m afraid this is going 
to be a long pull, and I know I ought not to drag you along.” 

“If you call it dragging, why, I ’ll turn back,” said 
Quint. “ I know I’m slow.” 

“ I don’t mean that! ” cried Cliff. “ But I ’ve no right 
to ask so much of you; that’s what I meant to say.” 

“ Then don’t say it again! ” Quint replied, starting off 
resolutely on the road to Tressel and Kilbird. “ Come on! ” 


THE BEGINNING OF THE CHASE 



HE boys now settled down to a fast walk, 
munching crackers and doughnuts by 
the way, and discussing, between bites, 
Sparkler’s chance of rejoining his late 
master. That such was the dog’s in¬ 
stinctive object, both agreed j but they 
were not yet quite sure of the part Mr. Algernon Wins¬ 
low was playing. 

They got news of the fugitive by the way, and, on reach¬ 
ing Tressel, met three boys, who gave them some interest¬ 
ing information. They had seen the dog with the dan¬ 
gling piece of cord pass through the village in the direction 
of Kilbird; and one of them reported having seen, the day 
before, a man offering to sell just such a dog to a teamster 
watering his horses at the wayside trough. 

Cliff inquired: “ Did you notice which way the man with 
the dog came from ? ” 

“ He came from the direction of Kilbird,” said the boy, 
“and he went on toward Biddicut Junction.” 





64 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Quint thought a moment, then observed: 

“ It’s all as plain to me as this doughnut. Winslow 
came from Kilbird, or some place around there, yesterday; 
he took the train to Kilbird after selling you the dog; and 
now the dog has gone back there to meet him. See ? ” 
Cliff did see, greatly to his chagrin and vexation. Just 
then a locomotive whistled. 

“Here comes the down train!” he exclaimed. “How 
would it do for one of us to board it for Kilbird, and try 
heading him off that way, while the other keeps the road ? ” 
“That’s judgmatical,” said Quint. “We ’ve just time 
to buy a ticket. Have you got any money ? ” 

“ Jehu! I forgot all about money! ” cried Cliff. “ I gave 
the last of mine to you, yesterday.” 

“ And I put it away in my box after I got home,” replied 
Quint. “ It never occurred to me to take any for this trip.” 

“ Of course it did n’t! ” Cliff declared. “ It was n’t your 
business to j it belonged to me to provide for expenses. 
It’s just like me! I should have come off without any 
breakfast if my mother had n’t made me take something. 
She did n’t think of money, for I suppose she never ex¬ 
pected I would go far.” 

So that scheme had to be given up. 

“Never mind,” said Quint, consolingly. “The dog will 
be in Kilbird before the train will, if he is n’t there already. 
It will be better for us to keep together.” 

“Yes. But see here, Quint! This is growing serious, 
and there’s no use of my getting you any deeper into the 
scrape. Now, you must go back.” 


THE BEGINNING OF THE CHASE 


65 


“ That ’s a friendly way of looking at it,” Quint replied; 
“but 1’m going to see the fun out, now I’ve started.” 

The train had come and gone, and was already passing 
out of sight. The boys followed, keeping the highway. 
The dangling cord was a fortunate circumstance, for it 
attracted attention to the runaway, and rendered the pur¬ 
suit comparatively easy. 

They had been walking some time on a lonely country 
road, without meeting any one of whom they could make 
inquiries, when Cliff said: 

“ There comes a team ; we ’ll ask the driver.” 

“Is it a team?” Quint replied in a dry, argumentative 
tone which caused Cliff to turn and look at him; for when 
Quint spoke in that way his friends generally knew that 
something quizzical was coming. 

“ It looks like it,” said Cliff —“a horse and wagon and 
a driver.” 

“ Which is the team ? ” Quint asked. “ The driver ? ” 

“Not exactly.” 

“The horse?” 

“Well, yes, the horse—partly, at least.” 

“You sometimes hear folks talk of getting into a team,” 
Quint went on. “ They don’t mean getting into the horse, 
do they?” 

“ They mean the wagon, of course,” Cliff said. “ I never 
thought of it before, but it seems a trifle mixed.” 

“ It’s a good deal mixed,” Quint replied. “ Now, you ’ll 
be surprised to learn that the wagon is no more a part of 
the team than the driver is, and that one horse does n’t 


66 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


make a team any more than one blade makes scissors. A 
team, according to the dictionary, is two or more animals 
harnessed or yoked together for drawing—something like 
that.” 

“Jehu!” Cliff ejaculated; “how did you ever get to 
know so much ? ” 

“ Oh, sister Jenny! ” 

Quint’s sister Jenny was a school-teacher, whose erudi¬ 
tion in some particulars he often found more useful in 
puzzling his friends than in correcting his own frequent 
faults of language. 

“So you see, Cliff, your team is no team, and when 
people speak—” 

He stopped suddenly, and stood staring straight before 
him down the turnpike. 

“ By hokey, Cliff! ” he exclaimed, “ I know that team ! ” 

“No, you don’t, Quint! ” Cliff replied. 

“ Why do you say I don’t, when I say I do, and can 
prove it ? ” Quint demanded. 

“ Because I can prove that you don’t,” Cliff answered. 
“You can’t see a thing where no such thing is, can you? 
And can you know a team when, according to your own 
showing, there is no team ? Ask Jenny! ” 

“You owed me one, and you ’ve paid it, as our friend 
Winslow said yesterday,” Quint replied, laughing. “ Any¬ 
how, I know the horse, for I harnessed him this morn¬ 
ing. The wagon is our carryall, and the driver is my 
father.” 

“ There is n’t any doubt about that,” said Cliff. “ Oh, 


THE BEGINNING OF THE CHASE 


67 


Quint! if we could only borrow the—what do ye call it? 
team or no team—horse and wagon !” 

“ I’d like to have you ask him ! ” Quint chuckled. 

Mr. Whistler was much surprised, on drawing near, to 
meet his own boy and a neighbor’s traveling that dusty 
road so far from home. He listened with amused interest 
to Quint’s story of the runaway dog. 

“ Did he bite you both, and give you the running-away 
distemper ? ” he asked. “ I have n’t seen him, and I don’t 
believe you can catch him any more than you could catch 
a fox on Wachusett Mountain ! G-et into the wagon here, 
and ride back with me, both of you; that’s the wisest 
thing you can do.” 

“ Quint can; I guess it’s the wisest thing for him,” said 
Cliff. “ But I shall keep on till I find the dog or drop 
down in my tracks.” 

“ Get up here, Quint; no more nonsense! ” the elder 
Whistler commanded. “ Cliff can do as he likes.” 

“He would like to borrow a little money of you, any¬ 
way,” said Quint. “We have both come away without any.” 

Mr. Whistler demurred. “ I don’t know what his 
father ’ll say to my lending him money for such a tom¬ 
fool expedition.” 

“ My father knows what I am doing, and he ’ll be 
obliged to you for giving me a little help,” Cliff put in. 

“Well, about how much do you want?”said the mason 
and contractor, putting his hand in his pocket. 

“ Enough to take me home from Kilbird by the train, 
anyway,” said Cliff, “ and maybe a trifle over.” 


68 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“Enough to take us both home/’ Quint added—“if I 
go with him.” 

“It ’s a foolish business/’ Mr. Whistler commented; 
“ but if Cliff’s father approves, I don’t know why I should 
stand out”—leaning over the wagon-side as he reached 
down a handful of small change. “Will this do?” 

“ Oh, yes! Ever so much obliged ! ” cried Cliff, delight¬ 
edly, pocketing the money. “ If you see any of my folks, 
please tell ’em—” 

“ I ’ll tell ’em I saw you going off in company with an¬ 
other lunatic,” said the elder Whistler, driving on. 


XI 


ANOTHER DOG-HUNTER 

boys laughed as they resumed their 
amp. 

“These fathers,” observed Cliff, “have 
me good points, after all! ” 

“We have to take ’em as they come; 
3 can’t pick and choose our own,” 
Quint replied. “ Mine is like yours in one way: his bark 
is worse than his bite. When I propose a thing, he ’ll al¬ 
most always say, ‘No5 silly notion!’ But if I give him 
line,—play with him as you would with a trout too heavy 
for your tackle,—I can generally wind him in. 1 Yes, yes; 
do go along! ’—just what I wanted him to say in the first 
place. But if I insist too hard, it’s no use 5 he’s like one 
of his own stone walls—built to stand.” 

“ A boy of any gumption soon finds out how to manage 
his parents,” said Cliff. “ My mother likes to scold, and 
I just let her; it does n’t hurt a bit! It’s a good pie that 
sputters in the oven 5 did you ever notice it ? She’s just 
awfully nice, after she gets over it. But my father’s 
tongue is the worst; he is so sarcastic! ” 

69 








70 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


So they went on, discussing the home-rule question in 
a manner that would have edified their respective fathers 
and mothers. 

“ But mine, both of 'em,” said Cliff, “ would do anything 
for their children 5 and I should be about the meanest boy 
in the world to say anything against them! 77 he added, 
with a quaver of emotion in his voice. 

“I tell you what, Cliff, 77 Quint replied. “If ever it 
comes our turn to be talked over as we are talking over 
our folks now, I only hope our boys won’t have any more 
cause to find fault than we have; that 7 s all! 77 

Meanwhile they kept up their inquiries for Sparkler. 
Nobody on that part of the highway had seen a dog with 
a cord dangling from his collar, nor, indeed, any stray 
dog. 

“ He may have turned off on some other road, or taken 
to the fields, 77 said Cliff, at length. “ What shall we do ? 77 

“I believe our best way is to keep straight on to Kil- 
bird, 77 said Quint. “ If we don’t strike his trail there, we 
may at least hear from Winslow. 77 

“ There comes another 1 team 7 ! 77 laughed Cliff. 

The “team” in this instance was a man on horseback. 
The horse was a heavy, hard-trotting animal, and the rider 
a stout little man, who at every jolt went up and down 
like a bouncing ball. Neither horse nor rider seemed ac¬ 
customed to the saddle 5 indeed, there was no saddle be¬ 
tween them—only a blanket, bound in place by a surcingle. 
Over this curved the little man’s legs, unsupported by 
stirrups. 


ANOTHER DOG-HUNTER 


71 


He was approaching along a by-road, and the boys 
stopped on a corner to speak with him. At the same 
time he kicked the horse’s sides and struck him with the 
reins, appearing even more anxious for an interview than 
they were. 

Before they could accost him, he called out, with the 
jolts in his voice, as the animal’s ponderous trot broke to 
a walk: 

“ Say—have—you—seen—a—stray—dog—along—here 
—anywheres ? ” 

It seemed almost as if he must have known their busi¬ 
ness, and that he was a joker, who took this means of 
heading off their expected inquiries. But there was no 
sign of facetiousness in that round russet face. 

Quint gave Cliff a nudge, and said, with a droll twist 
of his mouth: 

u Seems to be a pretty good day for stray dogs! ” 

11 What sort of a dog ? ” Cliff asked. 

“ A ruther small dog,” said the man. “ Kind of curly 
brown hair. A sort of spaniel. Had on a collar fastened 
with a buckle; sort of reddish-brown luther, with bright 
studs in it.” 

The boys listened with astonishment, the description 
fitted Sparkler so exactly. Only the dangling piece of 
cord was lacking. 

“ What do you want of that dog ? ” Cliff demanded. 

u Naterally,” said the man, “I want to find him and 
fetch him home.” 

“ Does he belong to you ? ” 

5 


72 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ He’d oughter belong to me, for I bought him and paid 
for him” 

“ When was that ? ” 

“ Day before yis’day. A man brought him along and 
offered him for sale. He showed how well he would watch 
a coat, and I got him for a watch-dog. Give a five-dollar 
bill for him! He wanted twenty-five, but I beat him 
down to five. My name is Miller; I live over in Worm¬ 
wood.” 

Cliff’s throat had become so dry that he could n’t utter 
another word. Quint took up the colloquy. 

“How did he get away from you?” 

Mr. Miller eased his position by leaning sidewise on his 
horse, and explained: 

“ The man advised me to keep him shet up for a day or 
two, and I put him into the barn. I fed him well, and he 
seemed as contented as if I’d always owned him. A 
couple of hours later I went to look at him. It was kind 
o’ dusky in the barn; I could n’t see him nowheres; so I 
spoke to him, and opened the door jest a crack wider— 
swish! he zipped past my legs out o’ that door like a 
kicked foot-ball! That’s the last I’ve seen of him.” 

“ Did n’t you try to follow him ? ” Quint inquired. 

“ Yes; but’t was so near night, ’t wa’n’t no use. Yis’- 
day I had an all day’s job o’ teaming, and I said: 1 The 
dog’s got his supper, and the man’s got his five dollars, 
and hang ’em! let ’em go ! ’ But half an hour ago a 
neighbor come over to say he’d seen that dog, this morn¬ 
ing, over by the Lippitt place, this side of Tressel. He 


ANOTHER DOG-HUNTER 


73 


tried to head him off, but he took to the woods, and he 
lost sight of him. So I jest throws a blanket on old Bob, 
and jogs off to hunt him up. You hain’t seen no such 
animal ? ” Mr. Miller continued, talking down to the boys. 

“ Not to-day,” Quint replied; “ but I saw that very dog 
yesterday afternoon. A man offered him for sale, over in 
Biddicut, and a neighbor of mine bought him for ten 
dollars. He got cheated worse than you did! ” 

Mr. Miller straightened himself excitedly, and tightened 
his loose bridle-reins, eager to resume his hard trot. 

“Yes, he did,” he cried, “for he bought my dog! 
Where is he ? ” 

“ The boy or the dog ? ” Quint inquired. 

“ Both ! ” said Mr. Miller. 

“ The boy is right here before you,” said Quint, laying 
his hand on Cliff’s shoulder. “But where the dog is, 
we ’re as anxious to know as you are. He got away this 
morning, and we tracked him a good piece this side of 
Tressel village—to about where your neighbor saw him, I 
should say. His taking to the woods accounts for our 
losing all trace of him.” 

Mr. Miller was starting off, but he pulled rein to say: 

“ I was afraid the man was a rogue! But he told a 
straight story about bein’ a clerk in a hotel that was 
burned, up in Brattleboro.” 

“ Brattleboro ? ” cried Cliff. “ He told us Bennington ! ” 

“Brattleboro!” Mr. Miller insisted positively. “And 
he was going to the bedside of a sick mother in Wiscon¬ 
sin.” 


74 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Michigan! He told ns Michigan ! ” Cliff exclaimed, 
“ Did n’t he ? ” appealing to Quint. 

Mr. Miller gave him a parting look of disgust, then 
kicked his clumsy heels into the horse’s ribs, slapped him 
with the looped end of the reins, clucked like a hen and 
threw up his arms like wings, and started off on his hard- 
trotting beast. 

The boys watched his bouncing ball of a body for a 
moment with mingled emotions, then turned and looked 
at each other. 

“ Well, Cliff! ” Quint said, with a strange smile. 

Cliff was so astounded by the proof of Winslow’s bad 
faith that he made two or three attempts to speak before 
he finally replied: 

u Quint, it’s no use! We may as well turn around and 
go home.” 

“How do you work that out?” Quint inquired. 

“ Don’t you see ? I’ve no claim on that dog, anyway! 
If Winslow had a right to sell him, he belongs to Miller, 
who bought him before I did.” 

“1 can’t help laughing! ” Quint suddenly broke forth. 
“ It’s awfully funny, come to think of it! Algernon K. 
Winslow is a man of genius j he has invented a new busi¬ 
ness-selling a dog! Who knows how many times he 
had sold him before he sold him to Miller ? Your title is 
probably as good as Miller’s.” 

“ It may be, and yet not be worth taking this tramp 
for,” Cliff answered despondently. 

u I beg to differ with you. Possession, they say, is nine 


ANOTHER DOG-HUNTER 


75 


points of the law. If we get possession of that dog/ 7 
Quint continued, “we can hold him till somebody shows 
a better claim; and if the rightful owner turns up, 1 7 m 
sure he 7 11 be willing to pay your ten-dollar mortgage on 
him, and other expenses. There 7 s no discount on that 
dog, Cliff; the discount is all on Winslow. 77 

Cliff’s face brightened. “ There 7 s a good deal in what 
you say, Quint! 77 

“ It’s judgmatical! 77 said Quint. 

He gave a last look at the disappearing horseman, and 
said smilingly: 

“Mr. Miller is welcome to all the satisfaction he will 
get from his trip to the Lippitt place. We ’ll hunt for 
both man and dog at Kilbird; and it’s my humble opin¬ 
ion that the man will be about as well worth catching as 
the dog. I ’ll squeeze your ten dollars out of him! 77 he 
concluded, clenching his fist, while his strong features 
settled into an expression of grim resolution. 


XII 


THE VILLAGE LANDLADY 



HE boys had already resumed their tramp. 
Cliff no longer thought of going back. 

At Kilbird they turned the corner of 
a cross-street in order to reach the rail- 
road-station, which lay in a little valley 
between two divisions of the village. 
They put their usual question to a boy standing on the 
front steps of a grocer’s store. 

He had seen no such dog that morning. “ But,” said 
he, “ there was a man here yesterday with one, trying to 
sell him.” 

In answer to Cliff’s inquiries, he described Winslow 
and Sparkler very accurately, and added: 

“ They came from over the railroad, and I heard some¬ 
body say the man was stopping at the Grover House.” 

u The Grover House ? ” cried Cliff, eagerly. “ Where is 
that?” 


“ It's the hotel you see on the rise of ground the other 
side of the railroad—the house with the porch and bal¬ 
cony, and the balm-o’-Gilead trees in front.” 

76 



THE VILLAGE LANDLADY 


77 


Uttering hasty thanks for this information, the two 
dog-hunters hurried down the near slope and up the 
farther one without halting at the station, and called up 
at a woman they saw shaking a rug on the balcony be¬ 
hind the balm-of-Gilead trees. She answered, looking 
down over the rail, that she did n’t know any guest of the 
house named Winslow. 

“ A man with a dog,” Cliff shouted back, adding a few 
words of description. 

u I know who you mean,” she replied. “ He has been 
here, off and on, for a couple of days, and he may be here 
yet; he was, an hour or two ago. I ’ll speak to Mrs. 
Grover.” 

Mrs. Grover proved to be the landlady, who presently 
came out on the porch beneath the balcony to speak to the 
boys. 

u Why, yes,” she said, “ Mr. Knight—a very nice man! 
And the wonderfullest dog I ever did see ! He spent the 
night here, last night, and the night before. He has n’t 
been gone much more than half an hour.” 

“ Gone ? ” Cliff gasped out, standing with one foot on 
the porch step. “ And the dog—did he have the dog ? ” 

“I ’ll tell you about that,” replied the landlady. “He 
lost the dog, someway, yesterday, and came back last 
evening without him. The dog did n’t come till this 
morning. Mr. Knight seemed to be waiting for him. 
He said the dog had a bad trick of straying off, but that 
he always turned up again.” 

Cliff stepped up on the porch floor, and said earnestly: 


78 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ The man you call Mr. Knight told me his name was 
Algernon Knight Winslow 5 and he sold me that dog yes¬ 
terday for ten dollars.” 

The landlady of the Grover House expressed a great 
deal of surprise and sympathy, and invited the boys to 
sit down and rest on a bench in the cool porch. 

“You look kind of beat out,” she said, noticing that 
they were flushed and covered with dust. 

But Cliff said they were not tired j they could n’t stop 
— they were bound to follow Winslow; and he asked: 

“ Did he take a train ? ” 

“ No 5 he hired my husband to drive him over to Corliss 
in his buggy. It’s only about three miles, and Mr. 
Grover will be back now very soon. I’m awfully sorry 
for your bad luck! ” said the good woman. “ I would n’t 
have believed Mr. Knight was such a man. My husband 
called him a smooth-tongued fellow, and he did n’t take 
much stock in his stories 5 but he never suspected him of 
dishonesty.” 

Quint inquired: “ Did he have any baggage ? ” 

“ Only a small linen bag, which he left here when he 
was off on excursions. But he took it with him this 
morning, saying he did n’t expect to come back. I must 
do him the justice to say he paid his bill.” 

“Well he might, with other people’s money!” Cliff 
exclaimed. “ How many times did his dog stray away ? ” 

“Twice anyway,” replied Mrs. Grover. “Mr. Knight 
came home without him day before yesterday; but the 
dog came the same evening.” 


THE VILLAGE LANDLADY 


79 


“ That 7 s the time he sold him to Miller/ 7 said Cliff, 
turning to his companion. “ I wonder how many times 
more he has sold him ? 77 

“ More times than he ever will again, if we lay hands on 
either of ’em ! 77 laughed Quint. 

Mrs. Grover became exceedingly friendly and sympa¬ 
thetic, and insisted on opening a bottle of spruce-beer for 
the wayfarers while they rested on the shaded bench. It 
was a welcome refreshment, which Cliff offered to pay for, 
but she laughingly told him to “put up his money. 77 
Then, perceiving that they nibbled furtively at something 
they brought out from their pockets between sips, she 
entered the house, and presently reappeared with two 
generous sandwiches, consisting of slices of excellent 
buttered bread, lined with cold sliced ham. 

“ This is too much! 77 Cliff exclaimed, with glistening 
eyes. 

“You seem to be proper nice boys, 77 she replied, “and 
1 7 m only too glad to give you a little treat after you have 
been so imposed upon. I shall want you to write your 
names in our book. I ’ll bring it out here, with a pen, so 
you can be resting all the while. 77 

“ Cliff/ 7 said Quint, glancing over his shoulder to see 
that she was out of hearing (he held his glass in one 
hand and his bitten sandwich in the other), “ if I was n’t 
already fitted out with a tolerably good mother, I know 
where 1 7 d go to adopt one! 77 

Cliff nodded and winked, and whispered, as he lifted his 
glass to his lips: “ She 7 s coming back.” 


80 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


She brought the hotel register, and, laying it open on 
Cliffs knees, offered him a freshly dipped pen. Cliff set 
his glass down beside him, laid his half-eaten sandwich 
across the top of it, took the pen, and passed it to 
Quint. 

“ You write first,” he said. 

“No; you write for both,” said Quint. “You were 
always the champion ink-slinger of our class.” 

“ When you say that, I can’t write at all,” Cliff laughed; 
“I’m afraid of my own reputation. I ’ll try my skill at 
your name first; it won’t matter if I do spoil that.” 

“You can’t make it any homelier than I am,” replied 
Quint. “ Put in the gambrel-roof nose ! ” As Mrs. Grover 
glanced at his prominent feature, and smiled, he added: 
“ That’s none of my wit; it’s Winslow’s. He gave my 
nose that label before a dozen boys, and it’s going to 
stick. We got so much out of him.” 

Cliff wrote, in a fair round hand, “ J. Q. A. Whistler,” 
saying as he raised the pen: 

“ That small regiment of initials stands for 1 John Quincy 
Adams.’ I was afraid there would n’t be ink enough to 
write out the name in full, and I did n’t want to keep you 
running to the inkstand.” 

Then Cliff wrote his own name, “ Clifford P. Chantry,” 
made a loop against both names, and at the right of it 
put the address, “ Biddicut.” 

“ I declare,” exclaimed Mrs. Grover, looking down from 
over the end of the bench, “ I know your mother ! She 
was Lucinda Clifford, and she married Jonathan Chantry! 


HERE ’S OUR FRIEND’S NAME, CLIFF! 









k 4 "^** 



k 

*»*»*'" *jl 

' /-4> 

fH - 

V. • *1? 


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'•i ■■ ■:■ <;.?! 





























THE VILLAGE LANDLADY 


83 


We were school-girls together, and I was at her wedding. 
We used to exchange visits, but it’s an age now since 
we ’ve seen each other. Tell her you ’ve made the ac¬ 
quaintance of Emmeline Small that was, now Mrs. Robert 
Grover, and that my husband keeps the Grover House, 
here in Kilbird.” 

“ She ’ll be pleased enough,” said Cliff ; “ and when I 
tell her how you treated two strange boys, it is n’t going 
to make her sorry she ever knew you. She 'll come and 
visit you some time, I promise you.” 

u I shall be glad to see her, or any of your folks,” said 
the cordial landlady. 

She offered to remove the hotel book, but Quint asked 
to look at it. 

“ Just a second,” he said. “Here’s our friend’s name, 
Cliff! did you notice it? A little twisted,—‘A. W. 
Knight,’—with a flourish as long as the cord he gave you 
to lead the dog by! ” 

“ Burlington! ” Cliff exclaimed, reading the address. 
“ He told us 1 Bennington ’; he told Mr. Miller * Brattle- 
boro’; and here he is,”—slapping the register,—“ Bur¬ 
lington, Vermont! ” 

“ The trouble with that man is, he forgets,” said Quint. 
“ He forgets his own name, and he forgets all but the first 
letter of the name of the place he did n’t come from. He 
gets the B right every time—writes it large, as if it was a 
bumble-B; but he can’t remember the whole word, any 
more than he can the fact that he has sold his dog when 
he gets a chance to sell him over again. He ’ll forget us, 


84 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Cliff, if we don’t hurry along and overhaul him. We ’ll 
refresh his memory! ” 

He stepped to the edge of the porch, and brushed the 
crumbs from his clothes, then, turning to Cliff and the 
landlady, remarked in his driest tones: 

“If Winslow had been true to his name, and had n’t 
tried to win so fast, ’t would have been better for all con¬ 
cerned.” 


XIII 


MRS. GROVER’S HUSBAND 



HE boys were rested and refreshed, and 
impatient to be off. The landlady urged 
them to remain, saying that she ex¬ 
pected her husband’s return at any 
moment, that he would bring news of 
Winslow’s movements, and that she 
would make him 11 give them a lift in his team.” 

“ Why not start on and meet him ? ” said Cliff. u It will 
save time.” 

“ That’s judgmatical,” said Quint j and Mrs. Grover 
admitted that it was probably their best plan. 

She described her husband’s “ team,” which turned out 
to be a white-nosed horse and an open buggy, at which 
the boys smiled, remembering their previous discussion. 

“ And tell him,” she called after them from the porch, 
u that I said he was to wheel about and carry you a piece 
on the Corliss road. He can do it as well as not! ’’—rais¬ 
ing her voice as, having thanked her, they were hurrying 
away. “ Tell him I said so ! ” 

85 





86 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ There are some pretty decent folks in this world, with 
all the rogues / 7 was Quint’s quiet observation, as they put 
^n their hats, after waving them in farewell, while the 
landlady stood smilingly watching their departure. 

“ It ’s worth all the trouble that scamp Knight Wins¬ 
low is giving us, just to have fallen in with such a woman 
as Mrs. Grover — 1 Emmeline Small that was/” said Cliff, 
who could n’t help indulging in a little gentle pleasantry, 
even at the expense of so kind a woman. “ I never tasted 
such spruce-beer, did you ? ” 

“And such sandwiches!” Quint exclaimed. “Fact is, 
we were in just the right shape for spruce-beer and ham 
sandwiches to hit us in a tender spot, with a little womanly 
kindness thrown in.” 

“If Mrs. Grover’s husband will be half as kind to a 
couple of 1 proper nice boys/ ” laughed Cliff, “ and give us 
that ride in his 1 team’—say, there he is now! ” 

“ It’s the white-nosed horse and open buggy, anyhow,” 
said Quint. “ But it is n’t quite my idea of Mr. Grover,” 
he added, as the driver drew near. 

“Nor mine, by Jehu! ” cried Cliff. 

They had pictured to themselves a bright, alert, good- 
looking man, a worthy-mate of the woman who had won 
their hearts. The driver of the white-nosed horse had a 
listless air and a weak face, “about as bright-looking” 
(Quint muttered) “ as a rusty plowshare.” He was driv¬ 
ing slowly, with slack reins, and seemed to be regarding 
his horse’s heels so intently that he gave no heed to the 
boys until they hailed him from the roadside. 


MRS. GROVER’S HUSBAND 


87 


“ Is this Mr. Grover ? ” cried Cliff. 

“ Whoa! That’s my name when I’m to home,” said 
Mrs. Grover’s husband. 

“ You have just carried Mr. Win—Mr. Knight over to 
Corliss,” said Cliff. 

“ Yes, and a little beyend,” said Mrs. Grover’s husband. 
Then, as the boys questioned him: “ I set him down at the 
first mile-stone on the Popham turnpike. You want 
him?” 

“ Yes j we want him bad! ” said Cliff. “ He has got my 
dog! ” 

“ Your dog ? ” queried the landlord of the Grover House. 

“ He sold him to me yesterday,” replied Cliff; “ but he 
gnawed his rope and got away.” 

“ That accounts for it—the piece that was hanging from 
his collar when he came back to the hotel this morning,” 
said Mr. Grover. 

“ Such cord as this ? ” cried Cliff, pulling a coil from his 
pocket. 

“ Exactly! Knight pretended somebody had tried to 
steal him. It’s curious, about that dog! I thought there 
might be something wrong when I noticed the way the 
name had been taken off the collar.” 

“Was there a name?” cried Cliff. “He told us they 
did n’t have to put names and numbers on dogs’ collars 
up in Vermont.” 

“He told me the plate with his name on it had been 
stolen by some thief who must have thought it was silver,” 
replied the landlord. “I said I should have thought it 


88 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


would be easier to steal collar and all than to pull out the 
rivets and leave the collar; and be said, ‘It would seem 
so/ He wanted to sell me the dog. He made him ride in 
the buggy with us this morning, so as to keep him fresh, 
I suppose, for trying his trick over again. You did n’t lay 
eyes on a horseshoe anywhere on the road, as you came 
along, did you ? ” 

“ No, we did n’t; we had something else to think of,” 
said Cliff. 

“ My nag has cast one, somewhere, since I left home,” 
said Mr. Grover; “ but I did n’t notice it till he began to 
favor that off hind foot. I’ve been looking for it all the 
way back. Hope you ’ll have better luck finding your 
man. He’s got considerable the start of you, but he was 
walking kind o’ leisurely—leastwise, he was when I last 
saw him; and he ’ll be known by a flat linen bag he car¬ 
ries, as well as by the dog.” 

He was starting on, when Quint nudged his companion, 
muttering: 

“ Why don’t you ask him ? ” 

“I hoped he would offer,” Cliff replied. “I hate to 
beg! ” 

“ It won’t be begging, since his wife told you. Hello, 
Mr. Grover! ” Quint called after the departing “ team.” 

It stopped, and Cliff, feeling that it was his affair, and 
not Quint’s, stepped quickly to the side of the buggy. 

“ Mrs. Grover was very good to us when we stopped at 
the house, and she said you would carry us a piece on the 
road to Corliss.” 


MRS. GROVER’S HUSBAND 


89 


“She did?” said the landlord, looking down kindly hut 
curiously at the honest-faced boy. “ Just like her, for all 
the world! ” 

Cliff hastened to add: “ Of course I shall expect to pay 
you.” 

“ 7 T ain’t that; it ’s the horseshoe 1’m considering,” said 
Mr. Grover. “ I could n’t drive fast without laming that 
off hind leg; and if I was to drive slow, you might as well 
foot it. Sorry, but you see how it is.” 

Cliff had regarded the lost horseshoe as a very trivial 
affair; but he found it was a matter of importance, even 
to him. He could n’t help showing his disappointment, 
but he answered cheerily: “I should n’t want to injure 
your horse. Just as much obliged! ” 

And he said to Quint, as they hurried away: 

“ Now we must make up for lost time ! It’s lucky we 
did n’t wait for him at the Grover House.” 

“ I don’t know about that,” replied Quint. “ If Mrs. 
Grover is the woman I take her to be, she’d have made 
him harness another horse—unless it’s a one-horse hotel. 
Maybe she ’ll send him after us. She’s the captain of 
that company of two. Grover’s the rank and file! ” 

Fortunately the boys made no delay in expectation of a 
fresh horse being sent after them, but walked fast, feeling 
that success in their pursuit depended on their own strong 
limbs and resolute wills. 


XIV 

“a nice pet for an old couple” 

took them a full half-hour to reach the 
mile-stone on the Popham turnpike 
where Mr. Grover had set down Wins¬ 
low and his dog. 

They found the spot where the buggy- 
wheels had turned, leaving their semi¬ 
circles in the dust of the road. Yes, and there were fresh 
footprints of a dog—Sparkler’s, beyond question. They 
looked in vain for Winslow’s, and concluded that he must 
have alighted on one of the grassy borders. The dog’s, 
moreover, were soon lost, or could be seen again so rarely 
beyond the mile-stone that the boys quickly decided to 
waste no precious moments in looking for them, but to 
press on, as they had done earlier in the morning, in the 
direction the dog and his master must have taken. 

Farm-houses were few, and they met no vehicles, and no¬ 
body had any information to give until they came to some 
mowers whetting their scythes in a field beside the road. 
Cliff leaned over the wall and put his usual question. 

90 










“A NICE PET FOR AN OLD COUPLE” 


91 


“Yes; and he wanted to sell his dog to ns,” one of the 
men answered back, poising his whetstone and feeling the 
edge of his scythe. “ About an hour ago. But he found 
this a poor dog-market.” 

“ Which way did he go ? ” 

“ Straight ahead.” 

Whacky-te-whack! went the whetstones on the bright 
blades, to the music of which the boys hastened on. They 
received further and equally positive information from 
time to time, and at length, high in hope, entered a small 
village to which they had traced the fugitives. 

It was a village of scattered houses, in front of one of 
which they found a bareheaded man leaning over a gate. 
His back was toward them, and he seemed to" be gazing 
very intently up the street. Farther on were other peo¬ 
ple in doorways or front yards, or standing in the street, 
all gazing in the same direction. 

By his leather apron and the sign over his door, the 
boys perceived that the man leaning on the gate was a 
shoemaker. 

“ What ’s the show ? ” Quint asked. 

“ Show! ” said the man, turning upon him a look of 
disgust. “ There ain’t no show! And 1 7 m fooled out of 
five dollars—clean as a whistle! ” 

Cliff asked how that had come about, and the man told 
his story to an intensely interested audience of two. 

“A man come along here about an hour ago, and 
stopped into my shop to git me to rasp a nail out of his 
boot. He had a dog he bragged about, and made him do 


92 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


some tricks that I thought my woman would like to see. 
We hain’t got no childern, and last winter a neighbor’s 
dog killed our cat—got holt of her in the deep snow, where 
she had no chance j she could gener’ly scratch up a tree or 
take care of herself, anyway, but this time the poor thing 
got left. We missed her, and had been wishin’ for some 
kind of a pet; and when my wife heard the man say he 
had got out of money and would have to part with his 
dog, she looked at me, and I nodded, and then she says, 
i How much do you ask for him ? ’ she says. When he 
said, 1 Twenty dollars,’ I thought, of course, ’t wa’n’t no 
use for us to think of buyin’ him; but as he wanted me to 
make him an offer, I looked at my wife, and she nodded 
to me, and I says, 1 1 ’ll give three,’ I says, without the 
least idee he’d take me up. He did n’t exactly, but he 
come down to ten dollars, then to seven, then said he’d 
split the difference 5 and I looked at my wife, and she 
winked to me, and I says , 1 All right,’ I says; 1 1 ’ll give ye 
five ’—though I wish to gracious now I’d stuck to my first 
bid.” 

“ You bought him for five dollars ? ” cried Cliff. 

“Yes, on condition that the man should have the privi¬ 
lege of buyin’ him back for double the money, any time 
within a month. He’s jest the cutest dog you ever set 
eyes on; he seemed such a nice pet for an old couple! 
And after the man was gone, my wife she says, 1 1 do hope 
he never ’ll come back for him! ’ and I said I hoped so, too.” 

“ Where’s the dog now ? ” Cliff asked, although he knew 
well enough already. 


“A NICE PET FOR AN OLD COUPLE 


93 


The man threw his thumb over his shoulder in the 
direction in which he and the other villagers had been 
gazing. 

“ Skipped! 77 he said. “ Skipped like a flea! We 7 d fed 
him in the shop, with the doors closed; and he was so nice 
and quiet, my wife wanted to have him a little while in 
the kitchen • and I said, 1 Yes; only keep him shet in for 
the present/ I said, for the owner advised us to do that 
till he 7 d had time to get well out of the way. There 7 s 
only a door ’twixt shop and kitchen, and I was hammerin’ 
away at a strip of so 7 -luther when I heard her scream, and 
she come rushin 7 in to say the dog was gone. 77 

“ Did n 7 t you have him tied ? 77 Quint inquired. 

“ I jest had a strap buckled to his collar at first; but he 
seemed so contented, I took it off to let him run around 
indoors. There was jest a winder open, over the kitchen 
sink; but we did n 7 t think nothin 7 about that, and he did n 7 t 
seem to, nuther, till all to once—whish! he was up on that 
sink, and out o 7 that winder, Tore the scream was out of 
her mouth. 1 7 ve got the rheumatiz, and can’t run j but 
she rushed out. There she comes now! 77 

“ Without the dog! 77 said Cliff, gazing eagerly. 

The shoemaker’s wife had to run the gantlet of ques¬ 
tions from all her neighbors, as she returned, with excited 
looks and panting breath, to her husband. 

“I never see the beat on 7 t! 77 she said. “He went off 
like a sky-rocket! One of the Dayton boys has gone after 
him; but he was running like all possessed when he went 
by their place, and we never shall see him again. 77 


94 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


The boys asked for water, which she brought in a tin 
dipper, with a trembling hand. It was cold from the 
shoemaker’s pump; and, having drunk, and thanked her, 
and condoled with the worthy couple for their loss, they 
resumed their tramp, without deeming it necessary to 
proclaim their own personal and peculiar interest in the 
many-times-sold dog. 

Cliff laughed as they hurried along the village street. 

u My ownership, that seemed so plain at the start,” said 
he, “ is getting to be like the road the traveler followed in 
the woods: first a wagon-track, then a cattle-path, then it 
dwindled to a squirrel-track and ran up a tree! Even if 
we catch the dog, I don’t see what we are going to do with 
the claims of all these other people.” 

“ We won’t worry about that trouble till we get to it,” 
Quint replied. “Dog or no dog, one owner or twenty, 
Algernon Knight Winslow is our game ! ” 


XV 

♦ 

ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 



HEY had not proceeded far beyond the 
village when they descried a youngster 
coming toward them, heated as if he 
had been running. He carried his hat 
in his hand, and at sight of Cliff and 
Quint grinned from ear to ear. 

“That ’s the Dayton boy; what ’ll you bet?” said Cliff. 
And he called out, while the youngster was still some rods 
away, “ Where’s the shoemaker’s dog ? ” 

“ In Jericho, I guess! ” laughed the youngster. 

“ Could n’t you catch him ? ” 

“Ketch him! Ye might as well try to ketch the 
shadder of a wild goose flyin’ over a stump-lot! ” 

“You are my style of boy,” said Quint, pleased with 
the youngster’s wit. “ Are all the village boys as bright 
as you are ? ” 

“I don’t know about bright” replied the youngster, 
“ but I can run as fast as any of ’em, and I ain’t goin’ to 
run my legs off for anybody’s dog.” 

“ I would n’t,” said Quint. “ Legs before dogs. Your 
95 




96 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


two are worth any four of the best dog in the world. 
We ’ve been traveling since morning,” he added, hurrying 
on, while the youngster turned and stared after them 5 
“ and'; we have n’t seen a dog that was worth chasing. 
We’d like to ! ” he called back over his shoulder. 

“See here,” cried the youngster j “I ’ll go a piece with 
you, if you ’ll help me ketch him. Mrs. Ball said she’d 
give half a dollar.” 

“ That’s tempting,” replied Cliff; “ but we’ve business 
of our own 3 can’t attend to other people’s.” 

And the Dayton youngster again turned toward the 
village. 

The chase had become exciting, and our Biddicut boys 
gave little heed to the circumstance that it was taking 
them farther and farther from home. 

“Winslow will be waiting somewhere for Sparkler to 
come up with him,” Quint observed 3 “ then he ’ll be try¬ 
ing to sell him again 3 so we shall be gaining on him all 
the while.” 

Soon a team overtook them—a real “team” this time, 
consisting of a span of horses harnessed to an empty and 
clattering farm-wagon. The wayfarers turned up sweaty 
and appealing faces to the driver, and, drawing rein, he 
invited them to “ hop in.” 

They climbed the wheel, and he made room for them on 
his seat—a board laid across the top of the rude wagon- 
box. It was a welcome change to the boys, enabling them 
not only to rest their limbs, but also to get over the road 
faster than they could have done on foot. 


ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 


97 


Their story amused the driver, who knew the last pur¬ 
chaser of the dog, the worthy shoemaker Ball. He car¬ 
ried them a mile or more, and would gladly have taken 
them farther; hut, coming to a cross-road, they were 
afraid to go on without first assuring themselves as to the 
way the fugitives had taken. 

They looked for dog-tracks on the crossings, and found 
several; hut these seemed to indicate that the dog himself 
had hesitated there, and taken a turn or two before pro¬ 
ceeding. Cliff was on fire with impatience. 

“ Is n’t it too had to lose time this way, when every 
minute is worth so much to us! ” he exclaimed, almost 
inclined to blame Quint’s too careful deliberation. 

“No use fretting,” said Quint, stooping over the faint 
footprints. “ It may save time in the end to lose a little 
here. ‘Be sure you ’re right, then go ahead,’ is a good 
motto; though most people prefer ‘ Go ahead, and guess 
at it.’” 

“That ’s more my way,” Cliff acknowledged. “But 
think how far from Biddicut we are already, and really no 
nearer that dog than when we started! Hello ! ” he ex¬ 
claimed, at sight of a yoke of oxen approaching on one 
of the cross-roads. 

Beside the oxen walked a driver, his whip on his shoul¬ 
der, and the short lash dangling over the near ox’s horns. 

“ I’ve just been to return a borrowed hay-cart,” he ex¬ 
plained, in answer to Cliff’s interrogatories. “ I must have 
been near an hour going and coming and talking, and I 
have n’t seen any such man or dog.” 


98 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ That means that they have kept straight on,” said 
Quint. 

“ Just the way the man was carrying us! ” said Cliffy 
“ and we’ve lost our ride and our time !” 

“ Things will happen so once in a while,” Quint replied 
philosophically. 

Five minutes later they perceived a small boy coming 
down a long slope of the road before them. 

“He wants something,” Cliff said presently. “He 7 s 
beckoning to us.” 

“And yelling,” said Quint. 

As they hastened on, the boy stopped in the middle of 
the road and waited for them. 

“ What is it, bub ? ” cried Quint. 

“ Are you the fellows that are hunting for a dog ? ” the 
small boy piped in a very small voice. 

“ Yes; have you seen him ? ” Cliff asked, with breathless 
eagerness. 

“ The man with the bag stopped at our house for a glass 
of milk,” said the boy. “ Then after a while the dog came 
along. We should n’t have noticed him, only he run into 
the yard and out again, and snuffed around, as if he was 
following the man.” 

“ That ’s great news ! ” Quint exclaimed. “ What angel 
sent you to tell us ? ” 

“ No angel!’t was my father,” said the boy. “ He 7 s the 
man that gave you a ride. He told me to come and find 
you.” 


ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 


99 


With great glee the boys followed the small messenger 
back the way he came. 

“ ’T was a judgmatical idea of W T inslow’s, that glass of 
milk! ” observed Quint. “ I should n’t object to sampling 
the pan myself. I tell you, Cliff, there are worse things, 
when you are hungry and thirsty and in a hurry, than a 
glass of milk poured into a certain aperture I could men¬ 
tion ! ” 

At the farm-house they met the man who had given 
them the ride, crossing his front yard to speak to them. 

“ I thought you ought to know,” he said, as they thanked 
him for sending them the message. “By the way, 
would n’t you like a glass of milk, or a bowl of milk, or a 
bowl of bread and milk ? ” 

“ That’s a remarkable coincidence ! ” said Quint. “ I 
was just mentioning milk! Milk and I are very good 
friends.” 

“ I’m just sitting down to my dinner,” said the farmer, 
“ and I’d like to have you join me. I guess we can give 
you a plate of b’iled victuals, if you have time to eat it.” 

“We should n’t have time for that,” Quint replied. 
“ But bread and milk! What do you say, Cliff ? ” 

“We are in an awful hurry,” said Cliff; “but—such an 
offer as that! ” 

They did, however, take time to give their hands and 
faces a much-needed washing, and to brush their dusty 
clothes on the back porch. Meanwhile the farmer’s 
daughters—two merry young girls, whose bright eyes 


100 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


made our Biddicut boys blush and feel awkward—placed 
bread and milk on the table opposite the single plate set 
for their father’s late dinner, his family having dined in 
his absence. 

“Do you think he ’ll feel hurt if I offer to pay him?” 
Cliff whispered to Quint, as they took their seats. 

“ He might;’t was an invitation. Better give the boy 
something for bringing us word,” Quint suggested. 

They were profuse in their thanks at parting; but the 
farmer said: 

“You are quite welcome. If you come back this way, 
stop in. My name is Mills. You may want another bite 
by that time, and I shall want to hear how you make out 
dog-hunting.” 

“Was n’t that bread and milk a godsend! ” said Cliff, 
when they were once more on the road. “ It may have to 
last till we get home to supper.” 

“ Home to supper! ” Quint replied, with a laugh. “ I 
gave that up hours ago. We shall be lucky if our folks 
see us at breakfast-time to-morrow—or dinner! We ’re 
in for it, Cliff! Did you know it ? ” 

“ The worst of it is,” said Cliff, “ we ’re beginning to 
look like a couple of tramps; anyhow, that’s the way I 
feel.” 

“Was it the pretty girls back there that made you feel 
so ? ” Quint queried. 

“ I could n’t help looking at myself with their eyes, and 
wishing I had better clothes on,” Cliff blushingly acknow¬ 
ledged. 


ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 


101 


“You ’ll find your clothes are good enough for this job, 
before we get through with it,” said Quint. “ How much 
did you give the boy ? I saw you slip something into his 
fist.” 

“ Only a ten-cent piece,” said Cliff. “ I wanted to make 
it a quarter, but 1’m afraid we sha’n’t have money enough 
to get home with.” 

“ Winslow is our bank,” replied Quint. “ The farther 
we go, the more need there is of our catching him. We 
can’t turn back! ” 


XVI 

AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 

HEY walked fast again, being sure of 
their trail, and soon got news of Wins¬ 
low and the dog traveling together, but 
still a long distance ahead. They 
passed through another small village 
where he had offered Sparkler for sale, 
but without finding a purchaser. 

After that it was easy to trace him; for as he went on 
through the well-settled but open country, he offered the 
dog to almost everybody he met, stopping to talk often; 
so that our Biddicut boys felt, at length, that they had 
him almost within view. 

They were unaccustomed to such journeys. Their legs 
were beginning to ache; Cliff suffered from a pain in his 
side; Quint was unpleasantly reminded that he had a 
corn; and both discovered that bread and milk, and the 
few berries they picked by the wayside, were deficient in 
staying qualities as a diet. But now, inspired by the cer¬ 
tain nearness of their game, they forgot soreness and 

102 







AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 


103 


fatigue j and Quint, whose breath held out better than 
Cliff’s, proposed that they should try a trot. 

“ A dog- trot,” he said, with a laugh. 11 Think you can 
stand it ? ” 

“Yes, if my confounded side-ache does n’t take me 
again,” replied Cliff. 

They set their hands to their hips, each with his coat 
hooked on one arm, and jogged on in silence, Quint always 
a pace or two ahead. 

“ I ’in getting my second wind,” he said presently. u I 
feel more like running than I did two or three hours ago. 
Don’t you ? ” 

“ Y-e-s! ” said Cliff, admiring his companion’s easy and 
steady lope. “We ought to get sight of ’em—from the 
top—of that knoll! ’’—speaking with difficulty. 

u Hello ! ” said Quint, “ there’s a crossing that’s going 
to bother us.” 

Crossings and forks were their chief source of delay 
and vexation, but for which they must have overtaken 
the fugitives long before. This one, however, hindered 
them hardly long enough to enable Cliff to recover breath. 
Fresh dog-tracks were discovered, and a little farther on 
they saw a man mowing briers by the roadside fence. 

Yes$ he had seen a man and a dog pass, ten or fifteen 
minutes before. 

“ Did he have a linen bag ? ” 

“ He had something; I did n’t notice particular.” 

u Did he want to sell his dog ? ” 

11 No ) he just asked how far it was to the Snelling farm. 


104 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


That ’s a great stock-farm, where they have all sorts of 
live critters. You can see it from the top of the hill 
above here—a spread of buildings, with a tall windmill 
and a red-painted water-tank .” 

Wild roses in bloom, and raspberry-bushes in full 
bearing, were the briers the man was cutting. The boys 
hurriedly picked and ate berries while they talked. 

“ It seems too bad to cut those! ” said Quint. 

“ They spread into the fields,” replied the man. “ Wild 
roses don’t do no good, and I never git none of the ber¬ 
ries.” 

He slashed away at the briers, while the boys hastened 
on. 

“ 1 Wild roses don’t do no good ’! ” Quint repeated dis¬ 
dainfully ) u and he cuts the raspberries because he 1 never 
gits none ’! A good man enough, I guess, but not exactly 
my style.” 

He had cut off a spray of the wild roses, which he stuck 
in his hat-band. Cliff carried a raspberry branch, pluck¬ 
ing and eating the berries as they pushed on. 

They were soon at the summit of the hill, gazing down 
upon a long stretch of open road, and near by, on the 
left, the orchards and buildings and tall windmill of the 
great Snelling farm. 

“ No such need of hurrying now,” said Quint, wiping 
his forehead. “We must save our wind for emergencies. 
If he’s there, he ’ll stay till we come. Then there’s no 
knowing what will happen ! ” He laughed grimly. 

They put on their coats, and talked in low tones as they 


AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 


105 


walked, still at a brisk pace, under the shelter of some 
orchard-trees growing near the street. 

“You look out for the dog5 get hold of him the first 
thing, and leave me to deal with Winslow,” said Quint. 
“ Keep cool! ”—for he saw that Cliff was excited. 

They came in sight of the great granite posts of the 
Snelling gateway, before entering which they stopped to 
wait for a carriage coming toward them along the road 
beyond. The driver answered their concise inquiries 
without drawing rein. He had met no man and dog. 

“ Then he’s here! ” Quint said to his companion, as, 
with all their senses alert, they turned in at the open gate. 

One branch of a broad driveway curved in toward the 
front of the house; the other led to the rear, and to 
the farm-buildings beyond. This the boys followed, 
keeping close to a thick border of Norway spruces, that 
thrust out heavy boughs above their heads. So they 
came to an open coach-house, in the doorway of which an 
old coachman in overalls was polishing the brass mount¬ 
ings of a handsome harness. 

“ Have you seen a man and a dog come into the place 
lately ? ” Cliff asked in a low voice, which he could n’t keep 
from trembling. 

“ I have-not many minutes ago,” replied the old coach¬ 
man. “ He inquired for Mr. Snelling, and they have just 
gone into the yards together.” 

“ The yards ? Where are they ? ” 

“Right ahead; go through that gate.” The old coach¬ 
man stood at the door and pointed. 


106 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Can’t you go and show us ? ” said Quint, who felt that 
the occasion had come for which they would have need of 
all their wits and a course clear of uncertainties. 

The old coachman dropped his polishing-brush on a 
chair, dusted his fingers on his overalls, and said, “ Come 
along.” The boys were careful to keep a little behind him 
and partially concealed by his broad shoulders, as he 
passed the gate and crossed a corner of the yard toward 
an open shed between two barns. There was a sound of 
voices in that direction, and presently the old man said: 

“ There ’s Mr. Snelling, patting the cow’s neck $ and 
there’s your man, with his dog.” 

The little group was in an angle of the shed, not twenty 
yards away. The boys peered over the shoulders of their 
guide, eager to command the situation, yet cautious of 
exposing themselves to view. He had stopped; they 
stopped too, in sudden amazement. 

The man in the shed with Mr. Snelling was putting a 
rope on the cow’s horns. He was an Irish laborer, and 
his dog was an ugly bull-terrier. 

u Was n’t there another man?” Cliff gasped out. 

The old coachman had seen no other, and no other dog. 
Quint felt himself dissolving in a clammy sweat; but he 
soon recovered his equanimity, and questioned the Irish 
laborer. 

The man had been sent for the cow from a farm about 
two miles away, and it appeared that he had come by the 
cross-road at the corners of which the boys had last 
stopped to look for tracks, and found them, although 


THERE >S YOUR MAN, WITH HIS DOG 




























































AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE 


109 


they were probably those of the wrong dog. He had seen 
no such man and dog as Quint described. 

“Well, Quint, what now?” said Cliff, with a sorry 
smile, almost ready to cry with disappointment and vexa¬ 
tion. 

“ What time is it ? ” Quint asked, turning to the coach¬ 
man, who pulled out a big silver watch and obligingly 
turned the full moon of its rimmed face toward the boys. 
“ Thank you,” said Quint. “ Only half-past two. Earlier 
than I thought.” 

“We might get home to-night, if we start now,” said 
Cliff. “We ; ve lost the trail.” 

“ But we may pick it up again,” replied Quint. “ If 
you are tuckered out and discouraged, you can rest here, 
while I start out alone to make discoveries.” 

“ If you keep on, I shall,” said Cliff. “ It was partly on 
your account I felt we ought to take the shortest cut 
home.” 

Quint answered, with one of his drollest smiles: 

“As for me, I’m just finding out what my gambrel- 
roof nose is for; it’s to follow through thick and thin 
the man who named it. Come on ! ” 


XVII 

AT THE STAR GROVE HOTEL 

HE cook of the Star Grove Hotel was old 
and lame and cross, and she was put 
into a specially ill hnmor that after¬ 
noon by being called upon to broil a 
beefsteak for a late-arriving traveler. 
“ I 7 11 choose the toughest piece in 
the ice-chest,” she declared, u and I ’ll take care to spoil it 
over a poor fire.” Then she proceeded to blow np her 
coals, select a juicy bit of sirloin, and prepare one of those 
delectable steaks for which she and the house were cele¬ 
brated. With as many faults as a hedgehog has quills, 
she atoned for them all by her professional pride and 
skill. 

“ He ? s just as pleasant as he can be,” said light-footed 
Jenny Ray (a college girl turned waitress for the sum¬ 
mer), coming from the dining-room after serving the 
traveler. “ He told me to give this to the only cook he 
has struck since he has been in the States who knows how 
to broil a beefsteak.” 



no 



AT THE STAR GROVE HOTEL 


111 


The old woman had seated herself in the broad-roofed, 
open passage connecting the dining-room and the sum¬ 
mer kitchen, and was cooling her flushed face and heated 
temper in the breeze that blew freshly through. 

“Huh!” she ejaculated, scrutinizing the coin Jenny 
dropped into her hand. “ 1 Since he has been in the 
States 7 ? He 7 s English, 111 be bound. The English are 
the only people in the world who know a good beefsteak. 
Yankees never think of feeing the cook, neither. What 
did he give you, Jenny?” 

11 The same,” said the smiling waitress. 

“ He 7 s an English gentleman ! ” the old woman declared. 
“ Is there anything else he would like ? There 7 s a little 
of that sherbet left in the freezer. I thought I might need 
it myself by 7 n 7 by, to cool my blood. But you can offer 
it to him. 77 

The “English gentleman” would like the sherbet, and 
it was served accordingly. 

“ I hope he has come for the rest of the season, 77 the old 
cook muttered to herself. “ A gent that has money, and 
ain’t afraid of parting with it, is the kind we 7 d like to see 
more samples of in a house like this. Well, what do you 
want ? 77 

Two tired, dusty, forlorn-looking boys, whose appear¬ 
ance tallied ill with the description of guests she was wish¬ 
ing to see more of, came around a corner of the hotel, and 
stood waiting to have a word with her. 

“We don’t find anybody in the office,” said the younger 
of the two. 


112 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ The office generally runs itself from now till the five- 
o'clock coach arrives,” she replied. “ What might you be 
wanting in the office ? ” 

“We are looking for an acquaintance,” said the older 
boy, who was also taller, and had a remarkably well- 
developed nose on a strong, honest face. “We thought 
he might have come to this hotel.” 

“He had on a loose-fitting brown coat, a little fuzz 
on his upper lip, and he had a dog with him, the last 
we heard,” said the younger boy—Cliff Chantry, in 
short. 

“ There 's been no such person here, with or without a 
dog,” said the old woman, sternly. “ There's been no 
arrival this afternoon but an English gentleman, about an 
hour ago.” 

Cliff's face wore a hopeless expression; it seemed to 
him useless to pursue the inquiry. But Quint queried: 

“ An English gentleman ?" 

“ An English gentleman! ” she repeated haughtily. 
11 He ain't the first one that 's honored this house, and I 
hope he won't be the last. We had an English lord here 
once, and I'm thinking this is another.” 

Having said this, she gazed far away over the boys' 
heads at a landscape of green slopes and wooded hills, in 
the blue distance, appearing to have no interest in any 
nearer object within her range of vision. 

That she was not to prove a fountain of obliging in¬ 
formation was evident enough; but Quint said: 


AT THE STAR GROVE HOTEL 


113 


“Did he—your English lord—come afoot, and carry a 
linen gripsack, his shirt-collar just the least mite yellow 
about the edges?” 

That brought her absent gaze back to the two figures 
in the foreground of her landscape. With her other 
excellent qualities, she possessed a bold imagination, to 
which she now gave free rein. 

“ He came in a carriage from the station, as the hotel 
coach did n’t connect with that train. How many hand¬ 
bags or valises came with him, I don’t know; but he has 
six trunks coming this evening. He engaged the two 
best rooms in the house by letter, and ordered a beefsteak 
by telegraph; he has just eaten it, and is finishing his 
sherbet. Not at all the sort of gentleman you claim as 
an acquaintance—yaller shirt-collar, indeed! ” 

The glowering look with which she said this discour¬ 
aged further questions. The boys stepped aside for a brief 
consultation. 

It was now two hours since they had lost Winslow’s trail, 
and they had worn out their strength and patience in the 
vain endeavor to pick it up again. Even Quint was be¬ 
ginning to feel that it might have been better to accept 
Cliff’s suggestion, abandon the quest, and start for home 
by the shortest cut from the Snelling farm. Since the 
bread and milk they had had at the Mills farm-house, they 
had tasted nothing but cold water and wayside berries, 
and they were faint with hunger. 

At the close of their whispered consultation, Cliff said: 


114 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“You ask her. I can’t 5 she’s so thundering cross! ” 

“ All right! ” Quint replied. “ She can’t do more than 
bite my head off, and I’m beginning to think that is n’t 
worth much.” 

He turned to the old woman. 

“ Beefsteaks and sherbet are not exactly in our line; 
but if you can give us a couple of sandwiches, we ’ll be 
glad to pay you for your trouble.” 

The old cook answered tartly: 

“ The Star Grove Hotel ain’t a sandwich-shop, I’d have 
you know. There’s a grocery in the village.” 

“ How far away ? ” Quint inquired. 

“Between here and the railroad deepo—about half a 
mile.” 

They took off their hats, thanking her with a politeness 
which was perhaps a trifle ironic, and Quint said to Cliff 
as they went away : 

“ Shall we go to the cracker-and-cheese shop she men¬ 
tions, or what’s your notion?” 

“ That girl looked as if she would have given us some¬ 
thing, if it had n’t been for the old one,” said Cliff, regret¬ 
fully. Jenny had come out in time to hear their parting 
words with the cook, regarding them with bright, sympa¬ 
thetic eyes. “ But it’s no use ! We ’ll buy out the gro¬ 
cery, then find the soft side of a rock to sit on, and talk 
this thing over while we nibble.” 

“ I gave them a string of yarns as long as a kite-tail! ” 
the old woman chuckled, with malicious glee, as they 
disappeared around the corner of the hotel. 


AT THE STAR GROVE HOTEL 


115 


“Why did you?” said Jenny. “They seemed to he 
honest hoys.” 

“ Claiming any guest of this house as a friend of theirs, 
and asking for sandwiches! ” scoffed the cook. “ Of 
course they never expected to pay for ’em. An English 
lord! — he ! he !—and six trunks! ” 


XVIII 


“AN ENGLISH LORD WITH SIX TRUNKS" 



EANWHILE the possible British noble¬ 
man strolled into the reading-room, 
where he picked his teeth and glanced 
at the newspapers for a few minutes; 
then he took a turn or two on the long 
hotel piazza, and finally came around to 
the roofed passage where the cook sat cooling her rotund 
visage in the breeze. 

She was rather unpleasantly reminded of the two boys’ 
description of their “ friend,” noticing the singular coin¬ 
cidence that this foreign tourist also had on a loosely 
fitting brown coat, and a shirt-collar yellowed about the 
edges. 

In suavity of manner, however, he was all that Jenny’s 
words and her own fancy had painted him. With an in¬ 
gratiating smile, he inquired: 

“ Have you, madam, seen a stray dog about here while 
I have been in the dining-room ? ” 

This was another remarkable coincidence. Without 
waiting for a reply, he proceeded glibly: 

116 









“AN ENGLISH LORD WITH SIX TRUNKS 


117 


11 Mine chased a squirrel into some woods back here, and 
I left him harking np a tree. He ’ll turn up before long, 
—he generally does,—and he may want a piece of meat. 
Will you oblige me by having something ready for him 
when he puts in an appearance ? ” 

Nothing in his demeanor impelled her to address him 
as she would have been prepared to address a British 
nobleman j but she remembered his generous fees, and 
answered promptly: 

“ All right, sir! I ’ll look out for him.” 

“ Thanks ever so much! ” he replied. “ If he does n’t find 
me the first thing, he ’ll make for the kitchen door. That’s 
a rule of his—a moral principle.” He laughed, and looked 
about him. “Your hotel is delightfully situated. That 
shady retreat is very inviting.” 

He walked back into the hotel, and presently reappear¬ 
ing with a light duster on, strolled off into the grove. 

The old cook watched him with a curiously puzzled ex¬ 
pression. 

“ An English lord with six trunks! ” she repeated to 
herself, with a derisive titter. “I suppose I ought to 
have told him his friends are looking for him $ but that’s 
none of my business. See the cheek of him, now! ” she 
suddenly exclaimed,—“stretching himself in Mrs. May- 
hew’s hammock, that she’s so awful particular about! 
But that 7 s not my affair, either. I’ve something else to 
think of, from now till supper-time.” 

And she waddled into the kitchen. 

On their way to the grocery the boys noticed three or 


118 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


four wagons halted on a side-street, and a group of men 
and boys standing near one of them. 

Although sick of the sound of their own voices putting 
over and over again the same monotonous questions re¬ 
garding a man and a dog, they still continued their in¬ 
quiries at every opportunity; and Quint now observed: 

“ There ’s another good chance to make ourselves ridic¬ 
ulous 5 those teamsters may tell us something.” 

11 The teamsters can wait; my appetite won’t,” replied 
Cliff. “ 1 ’m going on a voyage of discovery to those 
cracker-barrels! ” 

u There ’s a judgmatical streak somewhere in your 
make-up,” Quint said approvingly. “I ’ll enlist for that 
voyage.” 

At the grocery Cliff called for ten cents’ worth of plain 
crackers, and was surprised to find how many so small an 
outlay would procure. He then asked for three cents’ 
worth of cheese, and was a little ashamed of his stingi¬ 
ness when he saw how small a lump the grocer wrapped 
in brown paper and passed to him over the counter. 

u Another three cents’ worth ! ” he ordered munificently, 
handing the first package to Quint, and receiving the 
second for himself. 

He also threw in his man-and-dog question, in a casual 
sort of way, and not expecting to make anything by it, he 
was n’t disappointed. 

They stuffed their pockets with the crackers, each re¬ 
serving one for his hand; each had also his wedge of 
cheese, bared of its brown-paper wrapper at the thin end, 


“AN ENGLISH LORD WITH SIX TRUNKS” 


119 


convenient for being fed into the small mill of white teeth 
alternately with bites of cracker. 

“ That was good advice the old woman gave us,” said 
Quint, “if only she had n’t pitched it at us in that dis¬ 
agreeable fashion! A good deal depends on the way a 
thing is given—as Tim Oakes said when his sister flung 
the squash-pie in his face. He had been teasing for 
squash-pie, but!”—Quint stopped his own mouth with 
his ration. 

“ This is better than a stone wall for a little rest,” said 
Cliff, seating himself on the grocery steps. “Here, 
Quint! ” 

“ I ’ll let you do my share of the sitting,” Quint replied. 
“I’m going to pump those teamsters. If I don’t hear 
anything encouraging, then I shall conclude Winslow has 
struck the railroad and left this part of the country.” 

“ I shall feel mean, sitting here while you go about my 
business,” said Cliff; “ but I don’t feel as if—I—could— 
stir! ” 

Quint crammed into his mouth the last fragment of 
cracker he was engaged upon, as he turned down the side 
street and approached the blockade of wagons. For a 
blockade it was, by this time. He thought he had n’t 
seen so many vehicles in all the afternoon, and he won¬ 
dered where they had come from. Still another was just 
arriving. 


XIX 


THE HOT BOX 



ELLO ! ” cried the driver, “ what ’s the 
joke V* 

“Hot box,” came the reply from the 
group of bystanders. And he, too, 
jumped down from his wagon, a light 
carryall, and joined them. 

Quint followed, and saw with his own eyes what the 
trouble was. An axle-box of a heavy draft-wagon loaded 
with wood had become heated by friction, and the wheel 
had ceased to revolve. It would be some time before the 
metal would cool and shrink sufficiently to relieve the 
hub 5 even then, without oil, it would heat again before 
the wagon could go far. In these circumstances it was 
interesting to observe the brotherly cheerfulness with 
which the other teamsters came to the assistance of the 
one in difficulty. 

It was a rear wheel, and three men were lifting that 
corner of the load by means of a plank used as a lever. 
Two others were swinging upon the wheel thus raised a 
120 








THE HOT BOX 


121 


few inches from the ground, while the one they were aid¬ 
ing gripped the spokes opposite the huh. One of the 
bystanders was holding a stick and a pot of grease, ready 
to give the axle the necessary oiling as soon as it should 
be exposed. 

Seeing the wheel loosening a little, Quint also laid hold 
of the spokes, and, forgetting how weary he was from his 
all-day tramp, helped pull it off. 

“ You We got a pretty good grip in them hands! ” the 
teamster said to him. “ I ? m much obliged to everybody.” 

Then, while the oil was being applied, Quint introduced 
his own business to a remarkably well-disposed audience. 
The driver of the light carryall, who was returning to his 
vehicle, stopped to listen, and remarked: 

“ Your man was a slim-waisted party, not above three 
or four and twenty, narrow in the lower part of his mug 
—a sort of pinched look right here!”—with thumb and 
fingers pressing the sides of his own chin. 

“ That 7 s the chap ! ” Quint exclaimed. 

“ And the dog—he had short brown curly hair—looked 
like some kind of a spaniel ? had on a collar with nickel¬ 
headed brads in it ? ” 

“ The very dog! ” cried Quint. 

“That party,” said the driver of the light carryall, 
“begged a ride of me this afternoon, and took his dog 
with him into the wagon.” 

From the information he proceeded to give, Quint con¬ 
cluded that Winslow and Sparkler had been taken up not 
far from the crossing where he and Cliff lost track of them 


122 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


and got upon the trail by which they had been so woe¬ 
fully misled. The driver of the light carryall had come 
from that direction, and was now on his way back. 

“ How far did you carry them ? ” Quint inquired. 

“ Maybe a couple of miles in this direction, and then 
half a mile off on the Fulton road, where I had business 
with a man by the name of Ames. I left your chap there 
trying to sell his dog. I am driving right back in that 
direction. I can take you along and show you the house.” 

“ I jump at that! ” Quint exclaimed. u Only wait till I 
can speak to my chum ! ” 

Cliff, as he confessed afterward, was feeling that he 
could never get up from those grocery steps, when Quint 
came hurrying toward him with the exciting news. He 
was off the steps in an instant, quite f orgetting that he had 
ever known fatigue, and in three minutes they were rid¬ 
ing away with their new friend. 

He was sociable, and had a good deal to say about 
Winslow, among other things this: 

“ Before he got into my wagon, he took a long, glossy 
brown duster out of his bag, whipped the dust from his 
shoulders with it, and then put it on over his coat. There 
did n’t seem to be much left in his bag, so he just made a 
roll of it, which he held in his lap or under his arm. His 
dog lay in the wagon-bottom, where he would n’t be much 
noticed.” 

“ That accounts for our losing trace of them so sud¬ 
denly,” said Cliff 5 “for we made inquiries all along that 
road.” 


THE HOT BOX 


123 


They related their adventures, and Quint asked the 
driver if he knew the Mills farm-house, where they were 
treated to bread and milk, and got laughed at by two 
pretty girls. 

u I rather think I do! ” the man replied, with a broad¬ 
ening smile. “My name is Putney. If you had men¬ 
tioned it, those girls might have told you I courted my 
wife in that house. She is their eldest sister.” 

The boys were delighted to hear this, and went on 
praising the hospitality of the Mills household in a way 
that caused their new friend to warm to them more and 
more. 

“ It is n’t over three quarters of a mile from my house 
to theirs, across country,” he said. “Now, I ’ll tell you 
what I ’ll do. I ’ll drive you to Ames’s. Then, if you find 
you’ve missed your man again, and don’t see much chance 
of catching him or the dog, I ’ll put you on the way to 
my father-in-law’s, where I advise you to pass the night; 
or I ’ll keep you over myself. Then you can start out 
fresh in the morning.” 

The boys were touched by the kindness of this pro¬ 
posal, and impressed by the wisdom of the advice. To 
Cliff particularly it seemed as if it would be the most 
blissful thing imaginable to settle down in some quiet 
farm-house for the night, talk over their adventures after 
a good supper, and then go to bed; he felt, as he told 
Quint afterward, as if he would like to sleep about forty 
hours out of the next twenty-four. He almost hoped that, 
if they did n’t come upon Winslow or Sparkler, they might 
8 


124 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


not get any encouraging news of them, so that they 
would n’t feel obliged to bestir themselves further in that 
thankless business. 

The road was smooth, the country pleasant, the sun 
low, and the air cool, and the boys were enjoying greatly 
their restful mode of travel, when Quint suddenly threw 
up his hands and uttered a startling cry: 

“ There! Look! Hold on! ”—at the same time making 
an instinctive clutch at the reins. 

Cliff looked, and saw before them, coming on the road¬ 
side, running fast, a dog—the dog they sought,—there 
could be no doubt of it,—Sparkler! 


XX 


A MEET^G AND A PARTING 



H, by Jehu! ” Cliff exclaimed. u Stop 
him ! stop him ! 77 

Whether he meant u stop the horse 77 
or “ stop the dog/ 7 he himself could n’t 
have told. He probably meant both. 
Before the wagon came to a halt, the 
boys tumbled themselves down over wheel and foot-board, 
and rushed, with outstretched hands, to head off the fugi¬ 
tive. Sparkler was running directly toward them; and 
Cliff almost hoped for a moment that his pet was hasten¬ 
ing to meet him, as eager for a reunion as he was ! 

But the dog’s conduct quickly dispelled that fond fancy. 
There dangled from his collar just such a piece of cord as 
he started with in the morning, as if he had been running 
with it all day. He passed so near that Cliff actually 
reached down to clutch it, at the same time calling and 
coaxing, u Sparkler! Come, Sparkler! 77 when the animal 
turned suddenly aside, darted by the horse’s legs, escaped 
under the wagon, and was rods away before the boys were 
fully aware what had happened. 

125 








126 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


u That's the dog! ” said Mr. Putney. 

“ Of course it is! " cried Cliff, wildly excited. “ He has 
been sold again! " 

“ And has gnawed his rope,” said Quint. 

“ What will you do ? ” their new friend asked. “ Follow 
him, or drive on with me and see if you can find his 
master ? ” 

“ His master has gone in the direction the dog has,” said 
Quint. u Following one, we follow both.” 

“ We can trace the dog easier now, as we did in the 
morning, with the flying piece of cord to attract atten¬ 
tion,” cried Cliff, once more full of the ardor of pursuit. 

u Sorry to bid you and your carryall good-by, Mr. Put¬ 
ney,” said Quint; u but you see how it is.” 

“ I'd turn about and drive you a piece, if my horse 
had n't been so long on the road,” Mr. Putney replied. 
“ If you find it convenient to come to my house, or my 
father-in-law's,”—he raised his voice as they were hurry¬ 
ing away,—“ you '11 be welcome! ” 

They shouted back their thanks as they ran. 

The tide of human life, which had been at its lowest 
ebb when the Biddicut boys first touched at the Star 
G-rove Hotel, was by this time rising again in and about 
that favorite summer resort. 

Old ladies, refreshed by their afternoon siestas, came 
from their rooms to the breezy piazzas, where they 
grouped themselves on benches and chairs, or took gentle 
exercise by walking to and fro beneath the broadly pro¬ 
jecting roof; young ladies with parasols and books strolled 


A MEETING AND A PARTING 


127 


in from the woods and berry-fields; and a boisterous party 
of excursionists returned, alighting with chatter and 
laughter at the hotel steps. Then the five-o’clock coach 
arrived, bringing passengers from the train. The clerk 
was busy at the desk j the housekeeper was showing new 
boarders their rooms; and the cook was storming in the 
kitchen, to the terror of the young waitresses. 

“ Where’s my maid ? ” cried a bustling and important 
woman, sweeping along the piazza. “Where ’s Betsy? 
Betsy-! ”—as the maid appeared, trundling a baby-car¬ 
riage,— “ who is that man lounging in my new hammock ? 
Why do you allow such a thing as that ? ” 

“How could I help it, ma’am?” said Betsy. “I had 
been getting the children washed, after their play in the 
sand, and when I went out, there he was, asleep on the 
cushions; and what could I do ? ” 

“Go at once!” commanded the lady—“say you have 
orders to take the hammock in, as its owner thinks it is 
going to rain. Say it is Mrs. Mayhew’s private property.” 

Betsy went reluctantly to obey the order, while her 
mistress stayed with the baby-carriage. 

“Dear me! ” Mrs. Mayhew suddenly exclaimed, “what 
dog is that? How strangely he acts! Don’t dare to 
touch him, Philip! He may be mad.” 

The dog, just arrived, had a short piece of cord at¬ 
tached to his collar, and he was acting strangely indeed. 
There was n’t the slightest danger of Philip Mayhew or 
any other boy touching him, although two or three were 
soon trying to lay hold of the cord. 


128 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


He ran in at the door and out again, darted between 
two of his pursuers, who bumped heads as he slipped 
through their fingers, capered around the corner of the 
hotel toward the kitchen, occasionally dropping his nose 
to the ground, and finally ran into the grove, where he 
jumped joyously upon the trousers of the stranger, who, 
at Betsy’s request, was just then rolling out of the 
hammock. 

“ That your dog, mister ? 77 cried Philip. 

“He is mine—he is everybody’s; at least, everybody 
seems to think so. What were you boys chasing him 
for? 77 said the stranger. 

“ I thought he had got away from somebody; I saw the 
rope on his neck, 77 replied Philip. 

“ That cord is very useful in the performance of one of 
his favorite tricks, 77 said the owner, with a peculiar laugh, 
stooping, however, and quickly removing the cord from 
the dog’s collar. “He can do things that will astonish 
you. If enough of the boarders were interested, I could 
show you—right here in the grove, or on the hotel piazza 
—what a wonderful dog he is. 77 

“ Show us his tricks! Oh, mister, show us some of his 
tricks! 77 clamored the boys. 

“ Get some men—some ladies—somebody that can ap¬ 
preciate the most intelligent canine creature in the world, 77 
said the owner, looking around on his not very satisfac¬ 
tory audience of nurses and children. 

“We can appreciate him! 77 cried the boys. “ One trick, 
mister! 77 


A MEETING AND A PARTING 


129 


Just then the hotel gong sounded. 

“ There ’s your supper,” said the owner, with a shrug of 
the shoulders. “ It ’s no use now. Perhaps after supper—” 
He stooped again and caressed the dog. “Look alive, 
now! ” 

The animal sat up immediately, raising his fore paws, 
to the delight of the boys and nurses. 

“ What do you want ? Food ? ” 

The dog made no motion, but watched his master with 
bright, intelligent eyes. 

“No; he has been fed, and so have I. Walk?—take a 
walk ? ” The dog dropped one of his lifted paws. “ That 
means yes; he would like to take a walk and see some¬ 
thing of the beautiful country around here. I approve of 
his judgment. You see what sort of a prodigy he is, and 
you ’ll know what to expect if I am back here in time to 
show you some of his tricks this evening.” 

So saying, he walked off through the grove, while the 
boys, who would have much preferred a performance by 
the dog to the old cook’s most inviting supper, watched 
the two disappear, and returned reluctantly to the hotel. 

About half an hour after this our two Biddicut boys 
came panting up the Star Grove driveway. They had had 
more trouble than they anticipated in following Sparkler, 
having lost track of him in consequence of an unexpected 
turn he had made, and then learned, to their bewilder¬ 
ment, that such a dog had been seen going toward the 
very hotel they had so lately visited. 

Eager to verify this report, they dashed up the piazza 


130 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


steps, and met the office-clerk in the doorway. Yes, he 
said j a dog with a cord hanging from his collar had been 
dodging about there a little while ago, and he had last 
seen him running around the corner of the hotel, pursued 
by some boys. 

Where were the boys? At supper. Which corner of 
the hotel ? He told them, and a minute later Quint and 
Cliff were standing on the spot where they had interviewed 
the erusty-tempered old cook. 

The cook was no longer there j but presently Jenny Ray 
appeared, bearing some dishes on a tray, between the 
dining-room and the kitchen. She recognized them, and 
smiled at their question. 

u The dog was here only a little while ago,” she informed 
them, u and I believe the man himself was in the dining¬ 
room at the very time you were inquiring for him.” 

u The English lord! ” exclaimed Cliff. 

Jenny laughed till she was near spilling the dishes off 
her tray. 

The cook told me how she fibbed to you,” she replied. 
11 It was too bad! ” Yet she seemed to think it very 
funny. 

“ I ’d like to fan her with her own gridiron! ” said 
Quint. “ What a chance she made us lose! Where is he 
now—the man ? ” 

“ I don’t know ; he was in the grove till his dog came 
and found him. But I must go now! ” And Jenny dis¬ 
appeared in the kitchen. a 

The boys hastened to the grove, where they found a 





“ THE DOG WAS HERE ONLY A LITTLE WHILE AGO.*” 



































A MEETING AND A PARTING 


133 


nurse with two small children, and learned from her that 
Winslow had gone off with his dog shortly after the sup¬ 
per-gong sounded. 

“ Which way did he go ? ” Cliff asked excitedly. 

She showed the way Winslow had taken through the 
grove, and Cliff was for following immediately; hut Quint 
had a question to ask: 

“ How was the fellow dressed ? ” 

“ I did n’t notice, except that he had on something like 
a gauze waterproof.” 

“ Did he carry a bag ?” 

“1 did n’t notice any. He spoke of coming back and 
showing off the dog’s tricks to the boarders this evening.” 

“He wore his duster,” Quint said to Cliff. “I wish I 
knew about his bag. Shall I run over and see if he has 
left it at the hotel ? ” 

“ I don’t think we ought to lose a minute! ” Cliff de¬ 
clared. “She says he spoke of coming back; for that 
reason I don’t think he means to be seen here again. If 
we start right off we may overtake him, or meet him if he 
does come back.” 

“ Start it is, then ! ” said Quint. 


XXI 

THE WAYSIDE SHED 

DRIVEWAY skirting the grove in the 
rear of the hotel led to an open road 
not far beyond. This the boys soon 
struck, and were fortunate in hearing 
of Winslow and the dog before much 
time was lost in looking for tracks. 

They found themselves on a beautiful upland, with the 
grove on their left, a rolling farm region on the other 
side, and before them a pleasant road stretching away to 
the westward, across a cool valley, toward distant wooded 
hills. The sun was not yet set, but masses of black cloud 
with wondrously illumined edges, surging up in a wild 
sky, cast a strange gloom over all the landscape. 

There was a lurid light in the boys 7 faces as they looked 
at each other without slackening their rapid pace. 

u There 7 s rain-water in that cloud/ 7 said Quint, “ and 
thunder and lightning. 1 7 ve felt a storm brewing all the 
afternoon. 77 

u Do you believe it will come here ? 77 Cliff asked. 

134 














THE WAYSIDE SHED 


135 


“If it keeps on the way it is moving, we shall get it,” 
Quint replied. “ The lightning is having a circus ! ”—as 
the black face of the cloud crinkled with sudden flashes. 

At no time during the day had they felt more certain 
hope of coming up with their game. If Winslow (jid not 
turn back on his course, or lose time by offering Sparkler 
for sale, and so allow them to gain upon him, he must 
soon, they reasoned, seek shelter from the coming storm; 
and they determined not to pass a wayside house without 
stopping to make inquiries. 

These stops caused some delay; but they succeeded in 
keeping his trail, and came at length to a gloomy hollow, 
where there was a solitary farm-house a little back from 
the street, and an open wagon-shed on the roadside. A 
young man was crossing a barn-yard behind the shed, 
when they accosted him. Yes; he had seen just such a 
man as they described, with just such a dog, go by a little 
while before. 

“Does n’t the road fork right here?” Quint asked, 
pointing forward into the deepening gloom. 

“ Yes; the left-hand road goes over the hills; the lower 
one keeps the level country to Burbeck.” 

“ Could you see which he took ? ” 

“No; I did n’t notice after he passed the gate.” And, 
after answering some further questions, the man went on 
into the barn. 

So it happened that when the boys reached the fork 
they were again puzzled, as they had been similarly, so 
many times, in the course of that dubious adventure. 


136 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Although, it was not yet night, the shadow of the advan¬ 
cing storm was gathering so fast that they would hardly 
have been able to detect footprints, even if any had been 
impressed in the hard, gravelly road-bed. 

“ Well, what now, Quint ? ” said Cliff, his face showing 
pale and anxious in a gleam of lightning which just then 
lit up the landscape. 

“I'll go ahead on this left-hand road, which shows 
most travel,” Quint replied, “ while you wait here, or per¬ 
haps go as far as the first house on the other branch. 
Whether we find out anything or not, we ’ll both come 
back here; and the one that comes first will wait for the 
other under that shed; that will be as good a shelter as 
any, when the storm breaks.” 

A feeling of dread came over Cliff at the thought of 
parting from his friend, even for a brief interval, at such 
a crisis. The increasing darkness, the dazzling lightning, 
the far-off, tumbling thunder, rolling ever nearer, and the 
utter loneliness of their strange surroundings, filled him 
with indefinable forebodings. His was a more imagina¬ 
tive nature than Quint’s. The murmur of a little wayside 
brook warned him of fearful things impending; while 
Quint, in the most matter-of-fact manner, bent down to 
scoop up water in his palms, and quench his thirst with 
it, before starting on again. 

But Cliff, too, was brave and resolute, and, without 
breathing a syllable of his shuddering apprehensions, he 
acceded to Quint’s plan. So they separated at the fork, 
and hurried on their diverging ways, bushy and hilly 


THE WAYSIDE SHED 


137 


fields soon intervening to hide each from the other's 
view. 

Cliff had not gone far before he came to a farm-house, 
where he was assured no such man as he inquired for had 
been seen. A little farther on he met a wagon, the driver 
of which pulled up his horse reluctantly, shook his head 
sullenly, and, with an anxious look at the sky, whipped 
on again. 

Cliff did not stop long to consider what he should do. 
A dazzling, zigzag rift, running across the blackness of 
the heavens, followed by an appalling crash of thunder 
and splashes of rain, put an end to all irresolution. 

11 By Jehu!" he exclaimed aloud, with thrills of fear 
crawling all over him, “ I am going back! " 

He hoped to find Quint in the shed before him j but it 
was empty. It was a most desolate place, but he was glad 
to have a roof between him and the lightning-riven sky 
and bursting thunder. He stood in the great opening, 
and looked out, straining his eyes in the obscurity or 
winking at the glare, and listening for footsteps, caring 
little now for Winslow, but longing for Quint to come. 
He seemed to think that, whatever happened, it would n't 
be half so bad if his friend were present. Such comfort 
is companionship in times of trouble ! 

The rain, after a few fitful dashes, held off unaccount¬ 
ably ; there was even a lifting of the gloom at one time, 
showing that it was not yet night, as he had begun to 
fear, and deluding him with the hope that the storm was 
passing by. 


138 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


He explored the shed. At one end was an old tip-cart, 
while nearer the center was a farm-wagon, run in diago¬ 
nally, with the neap pushed into the vacant corner, over 
a manger at the rear. He discovered, to his satisfaction, 
that the manger contained a litter of straw. 

“When Quint comes,” he said, “we can camp down 
here, out of the rain. Not at all a bad place to pass a 
wet night! If only he would come ! ” 

As the manger would be too narrow for them both, he 
gathered up the straw and made a bed of it on the 
ground against the end of the shed. Then again he stood 
in the opening, looking, listening, longing for his friend. 
Suddenly came the sound of heavy drops pattering on 
the roof and the ground without. A wind was rising, 
and the gusts blew whiffs of spray into his face, causing 
him to draw farther back beneath the roof. 

“ Wishing won’t fetch him, and worrying won’t do any 
good,” he said j and yielding to a sense of overpowering 
weariness, he got down upon his bed of straw. 

He remembered how often, under the attic roof at 
home, he had been lulled to rest by the mild music of the 
wind and rain. Something like the same influence stole 
over him now, and he thought what comfort it would be 
to cuddle down there with his friend, forget Winslow 
and Sparkler and all anxiety and care, and sink into 
blissful slumber! 

But where, all the while, was Quint ? 

It was darker again, but still light enough for him to 
perceive anybody that might be passing on the road. 


THE WAYSIDE SHED 


139 


He still thought of Winslow, but his chief solicitude was 
to see the tall, lank form of his friend appear at the open¬ 
ing. Had some accident happened to him ? What could 
keep him so long? It had not rained hard at first, but 
now the volleys came down with a rushing sound. 

He tried to console himself with the reflection that 
Quint had sought shelter in some farm-house ; but that 
would n’t be like Quint. Then his mind reverted to their 
folks at home, his own mother talking of him at that 
very moment, and hearkening for his footsteps in the 
rain. 

“I know she won’t sleep a wink all night,” he said to 
himself, remorsefully. “What a fool I have been, and 
what a scrape I have got Quint into ! But it would have 
been a satisfaction to do what our dads did n’t believe 
we could—catch Winslow or the dog—and I thought—” 

All at once the tired boy stopped thinking altogether. 
A whole procession of dogs and Winslows might have 
passed; Quint’s mysterious absence, his own pains and 
fatigues and disappointments, thunder and lightning and 
wind and rain—he was sweetly oblivious of all, fast 
asleep on his straw. 


XXII 

“WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME?" 

INT proceeded some distance on his 
branch of the forked road, making 
fruitless inquiries at farm-houses, and 
meeting no travelers. All he expected 
to do was to determine whether Wins¬ 
low had taken that route, and he was 
unwilling to turn back before satisfying himself on that 
point. At length he came to a cross-road presenting the 
usual difficulties, and he perceived the uselessness of 
keeping on. 

“ Cross-roads, I should say! ” he muttered, as he stood 
and gazed off in the three directions, either one of which 
Winslow might have taken. “They make me cross 
enough. Well, that*s rather sharp ! ” 

“That” was a frightful flash of lightning, with its 
quickly following peal—probably the same that decided 
Cliff to return to the shelter of the shed. Still Quint 
stood deliberating, holding out his hand to catch the 
raindrops. 

It was a lonely situation, surrounded by barren and 
140 








“FACING EACH OTHER IN THAT TERRIBLE SOLITUDE.” 







“WHAT DO YOU WANT OF ME?” 


143 


bushy fields, except on one side, where a clump of dark 
woods straggled down to the very corner of the cross¬ 
roads. He stood among the scattered trees,—stunted 
oaks and hard pines,—and strained his every nerve to 
watch and listen. 

He was on the point of turning reluctantly back when 
he heard quick footsteps, and presently perceived, a little 
way before him, the figure of a man walking fast in the 
middle of the road. Quint stepped out from the wayside 
to accost him. 

u Hood evening, stranger,” he began, and stopped. 

No nged to put the inquiry that was on his lips. No 
need of the lightning-flash that just then flooded heaven 
and earth, and poured its white instantaneous glare on 
the two human figures facing each other in that terrible 
solitude. 

Despite the long gray duster, or gauze waterproof, in 
which the form of the stranger was partly disguised, 
Quint had already, in the unillumined gloom, recognized 
the man he and Cliff had been all day pursuing. 

The other was slower to identify his old acquaintance. 

“Not quite so good an evening as it might be,” he 
replied, without pausing in his hurried walk until Quint 
stepped immediately before him. Then came the flash, 
bringing out in startling distinctness the pale, earnest, 
prominent features of the boy who had waylaid him. 

“ Hello! ” said the dog-seller, skipping aside with an 
exceedingly alert movement, very much as if he had been 
stopped by a highwayman. “ What do you want of me ? ” 

9 


XXIII 


QUINT CHOOSES HIS COMPANION 



UINT also took a step, so that he still 
confronted him. 

“You know pretty well what I want! 
I see you remember me! n 

“ Remember you! n cried Winslow, 
with a light laugh. “Brutus—or Cas¬ 
sius?—which is it? Brutus, I believe. Well, Marcus 
Brutus, what can I do for you ? This is really like meet¬ 
ing an old friend! ” 

“ Glad you think so,” said Quint, in a low voice, and 
with a countenance that showed portentously stern and 
determined. 

He had many times rehearsed to himself what he would 
do and say upon the chance of falling in with Winslow, 
but the present occasion was so different from any he had 
foreseen that he hardly knew how he alone was to deal 
with him. 

But his wits did not desert him. Cliff was too far 
away to be called to his assistance j he must, then, try to 
take Winslow to Cliff. 


144 







QUINT CHOOSES HIS COMPANION 


145 


“If you don’t object,” he said, “I ’ll walk along with 
you.” 

“ All right! ” said Winslow. “ But you seemed to be 
going in the opposite direction.” 

“You were going in that direction, too, a short time 
ago,” said Quint, fading in by his side. 

“ I was out for a little walk,” said Winslow ; “ now I 
am going back.” 

“Just my case,” said Quint. “I was out for a walk, 
and now I am going back.” 

“ And I’ve got to hurry, for I don’t care to get wet,” 
said Winslow, quickening his step. 

“ Just my case every time,” said Quint, keeping at his 
side. “ I don’t fancy a wetting.” 

“I shall be drenched before I get back to the Star 
Grove Hotel, if I don’t run for it! ” And Winslow broke 
into a light trot. 

“ That’s a nice house—worth running for,” observed 
Quint, always within easy clutching distance of the dog- 
seller’s right arm. And he calculated, with secret glee, 
that their present rate of speed would in five minutes 
bring them to the shed where Cliff would soon be, if he 
was n’t there already. 

It seemed as if Winslow must have read his mind; he 
was certainly suspicious of Quint’s too evident willingness 
to accompany him in that direction. All at once he stopped. 

“ It is too far,” he said. “ It will pour before I can get 
half-way there. I am going back to a house I passed just 
before I saw you.” 


146 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ There ’s a house only a little farther on,” replied 
Quint; “ and just beyond the forks of the road is a shed 
we can wait under till the shower is over.” 

Winslow turned and faced him with a sarcastic grin. 

“ The shed would n’t be big enough for us both. I am 
going back.” 

“I’m afraid it will be lonesome there without you; 
guess I ’ll go back too ”; and, turning as Winslow turned, 
Quint still kept close by his side. 

“Now, look here, young man,” cried Winslow; “this is 
a great country—big as all outdoors! It almost seems 
as if there was room in it for me and you and your gam- 
brel-roof nose without crowding! ” 

“My nose and I will try not to crowd you,” Quint 
answered. “ But the fact is, poor company is better than 
none on such a night as this.” 

“ My amiable friend,” cried Winslow, his tones growing 
hard and sharp and menacing, “ does n’t it appeal to your 
common sense that a person has a right to choose his own 
company in this land of the free and home of the brave ? ” 

“ That’s just what I think,” said Quint, “ and I choose 
yours.” 

For a moment Winslow made no response, as he walked 
fast back toward the crossing, Quint’s elbow constantly 
close to his own. 

Quint would have yelled for Cliff, but he was n’t sure 
Cliff was within hearing, and he hoped Winslow would 
yet conclude to return to the Star Grove Hotel. Upon 
one thing the boy from Biddicut was fully determined— 


QUINT CHOOSES HIS COMPANION 


147 


to stick to him until, with or without Cliff’s assistance, he had 
got back Cliff’s money. The dog was not with his master, 
but Quint cared little now for that often-sold animal. 

Their hurried footsteps were the only sounds on that 
lonely road; but now and then the thunder tumbled 
down the cloudy crags of heaven, and the leaping light¬ 
ning severed the gloom of the storm and night. On reach¬ 
ing the wooded corner, Winslow turned sharply on his 
unwelcome companion. 

“ I’m inclined to the opinion,” he said, “ that it’s about 
time for you and me to come to some sort of an under¬ 
standing.” 

“ This seems to be a good place for it,” Quint replied, 
sternly regarding him. “We need n’t be afraid of an 
interruption.” 

“ Then have the kindness to inform me just why you 
dog my footsteps in this way,” said Winslow, threaten- 
ingly. 

“ Because I can’t dog them in any other,” Quint replied. 
“ I’m not a Sparkler.” 

“I see the point,” remarked Winslow. “State your 
case, and we ’ll settle it on the spot—if not in one way, 
then in another. A very good spot, as you say! ” 

“You know the case perfectly well,” said Quint, with¬ 
out heeding the threat. “You go about the country sell¬ 
ing that dog. You have sold him once too often. That’s 
my case, Mr. Algernon Knight Winslow! ” 

“ I never sold him to you,” Winslow retorted, insolent 
and defiant. “You are not Cassius.” 


148 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Cassius and I are solid in this business/ 7 said Quint. 

“Well, name your terms! 77 

“ The terms you proposed yourself, and put your name 
to; nothing more nor less. You 7 ve given me and my 
friend a deal of trouble. You have got back your dog; 
now we want our money. 77 

“ How much ? 77 Winslow asked, as coolly as if he had 
been prepared to hand out millions. 

All the while the rain was slowly pattering, and the 
lightning was winking at them, as they confronted each 
other on the edge of the lonely woods. 

For a moment Quint had hopes of bringing the dog- 
seller to an easy settlement. 

“You remember the agreement. We gave you ten 
dollars. I want twenty. 77 And he held out his hand. 

“Was that the bargain? Show me the paper you say 
I signed. Business is business, 77 said Winslow. 

“Come with me, 77 Quint replied, “and I 7 11 show you 
the paper in the presence of witnesses. 77 

“ Bring on your witnesses; 1 7 11 wait here, 77 said Wins¬ 
low, stepping under the trees on the dreary roadside, and 
placing his back against one of the largest trunks. 


XXIV 


A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 



UINT also stepped aside under the trees^ 
and stood facing him. 

The dark woodland beyond looked 
impenetrably dense until lighted up by 
a vivid flash that showed each silent 
trunk distinct in its space, and quiet 
saplings ranged on each side of a broken and ruined way- 
side wall. The utter solitude, the surrounding desolation, 
the fitful gleams and peals, the on-coming night and storm, 
might well have tried the nerves of one older and more 
experienced than Quint; but no one could have been 
more determined. 

11 1 can wait here as long as you can,” he said; coolly 
adding, t{ I don’t think there ’s going to be much of a 
shower.” 

u Suppose we have a little frank talk,” said Winslow. 
“We may as well take it easy; here’s a seat.” 

He moved to a fallen tree-trunk and sat down upon it. 
Quint guessed there was room for two, and sat down 
beside him. 


149 






150 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ How long have you been following me ? ” The dog- 
seller’s tone was quite friendly now. 

“All day,” Quint replied. “We’ve been only an hour 
or two behind you.” 

“ Who is we f ” queried Winslow. 

“You may as well know 5 the fellow you sold the dog 
to—Cassius, as you call him. He is with me.” 

“ I don’t see him.” 

“ No; he took another road, so as to head you off. He 
and I have been on the war-path ever since the dog got 
away this morning.” 

“Seems to me you are giving yourselves a deal of 
trouble for a small matter,” Winslow remarked sarcasti¬ 
cally. 

“ It’s no small matter to us, let me tell you! ” Quint 
replied. “Ten dollars is a big sum to a poor country 
boy. It’s more than my chum had saved up in all his 
life; that’s why he borrowed of me. Now, we are bound 
to have it back, with something for our trouble.” 

“You are a precious pair of country bumpkins!” 
laughed Winslow. “ But I rather like your pluck. Come, 
now; be reasonable. What will you settle for ? ” 

“ Twenty dollars,” Quint responded in his most direct 
and quiet tone of voice. 

“ That’s absurd! I have n’t got so much money as 
that.” 

“You’ve got more than that, Mr. Winslow. Before 
you sold that dog to us, you sold him to Mr. Miller, in 
the town of Wormwood. To-day you sold him first to an 


A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 


151 


old shoemaker, then again to somebody else, just before 
you went to the Star Grove Hotel; and you ’ve sold him 
again this evening.” 

u You ’ve kept the run of it pretty well; allow me to 
compliment you! ” jeered Winslow. 

“How many more times you have sold him,” Quint 
went on, “you know better than I do. You certainly 
have money; and the best thing in the world for you, 
Mr. Winslow, is to fork out mine.” 

“What! you, an honest Biddicut boy, will receive 
money got by fraud, as you claim?” 

“ I will,” replied Quint, “ even if I have to return a 
part of it to those I know you have swindled. I have no 
scruples at all about taking our share.” And he looked 
squarely at the dog-seller over the four feet of pine log 
intervening between them. 

“ And what if I decline to give up to you my hard- 
earned profits ? ” sneered Winslow. 

“ Then I ’ll see that you don’t earn any more in that 
way; I ’ll see that you are put where even your dog can’t 
find you! That’s the size of it, Mr. Winslow.” 

The dog-seller laughed derisively. 

“ You imagine you can make people believe your absurd 
story? I deny every word of it. I never sold you and 
Cassius a dog. I never sold anybody a dog. My dog is 
not for sale j he is with my mother in Michigan. Besides, 
I never had a dog. If you have a paper signed by my 
name, it’s a forgery. I don’t sign my name to papers. 
More than all that, my name is n’t Winslow.” 


152 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


He rattled this off with bewildering volubility, and tak¬ 
ing a knife from his pocket, opened it with a peculiar 
motion, and began to stick the blade into the log they sat 
on—merely to display his weapon, Quint thought. It 
was not so dark but that he could see that the blade was 
long and bright. He also took out his knife and began 
to stab the log. 

“It’s funny, then,” he said, “what we have hunted you 
all day for! ” 

“ I know what for!” cried Winslow. “ For blackmail. 
You have trumped up false charges against me, and think 
you ’ll force me to buy you off. That’s what I say, and 
what I ’ll maintain.” 

“And the other people you’ve swindled,—I know just 
where to find some of them,—how will it be when they 
come to tell their story ? ” Quint demanded. 

“ Brutus,” said the dog-seller, snapping his knife and 
putting it into his pocket, “ I ’ll give you five dollars, and 
you shall go your way, and I ’ll go mine.” 

Quint quietly closed and pocketed his own knife, and 
answered dryly: 

“You submit to ‘blackmail’f” 

“ I ’ll submit to anything for a dry skin.” The rain 
had held off, but it was beginning to patter again. 
“We ’re a couple of fools to sit here and palaver, when 
our little affair can be compromised so easily.” 

“ So I think; but five dollars won’t compromise it,” said 
Quint. 

“Very well, then!” exclaimed Winslow, a blaze of 


A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 


153 


lightning showing a sinister resolution in his keen face $ 
“ we ’ll sit it out. I ’ve got on a waterproof; I can stand 
it, if you can.” 

“ 1 7 ve got a better waterproof than that,” said Quint, 
with ominously set lips. “ I’m going to get mad by and 
by; that will keep me from caring for the weather. 
You’d better not put off settling too long.” 

The rain came down in big drops. The thunder was 
terrific. Then, between the peals, a rushing and roaring 
sound could be heard, distant and faint at first, then 
nearer and louder, and they knew that the storm, with 
tempest and downpouring and fracas of tossing boughs, 
was sweeping toward them over the woods and fields. 
The lightning shot through fringes of the coming rain, 
and shone in the large, near, slant-streaking drops. 

Winslow turned up the collar of his duster, or water¬ 
proof, and pulled the flaps over his exposed knees. 
Quint likewise turned up his coat-collar and buttoned 
the top button, remarking coolly: 

“ When this tree gets wet through, we can move under 
another.” 

The pleasantry did not appeal to Winslow’s sense of 
humor. He sprang to his feet with an outburst of 
unquotable adjectives, threw down his head against the 
gusts, and, exclaiming, u I’m going to get out of this! ” 
started to run. 

Quint started at the same time, catching him by the 
arm. 

“ Hands off! ” Winslow yelled, in the turmoil of rain 


154 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


and wind and thrashing bonghs. 11 Don’t yon stop me, 
or I ’ll-” 

“ I won’t stop yon; I’m going with yon,” Quint called 
back. 

“ Take that—on your gambrel-roof nose! ’’—with which 
half-stifled ejaculation Winslow whirled and aimed a 
furious blow at Quint’s head. 

Quint ducked in time to receive only a glancing stroke 
on his crown. Then, throwing up an elbow to parry a 
second blow, he made a headlong dive at Winslow’s waist. 
He closed with him, and in a moment the two were 
engaged in a desperate struggle. 

They were about equally matched as to weight, but the 
lank Biddicut boy was the taller and longer-limbed of 
the two. He had had some school-boy practice at scuf¬ 
fling and wrestling, and his mates had usually found him 
what they termed a “ tough customer ” in their rough-and- 
tumble contests. If one attempted to lift him from the 
ground, his feet seemed to stick to it as if they had glue 
on them, and his sinewy legs to stretch out like legs of 
india-rubber. 

He gripped Winslow firmly about the waist, at first 
with the sole idea of holding him and of shielding his own 
head and face from the blows. With his right arm he 
managed to secure his favorite under-hold, while his left 
fought, and finally grappled, Winslow’s right. 

Though slight of build, Winslow was lithe and athletic, 
and a more formidable adversary than he appeared. 
Forced to desist from his blows, he cried, in a lull of the 
scuffle: 


A DESPERATE ENCOUNTER 


155 


u Will you let go now f ” 

“ 1 will/ J Quint replied, “if you will keep your fists at 
home.” 

“ And go your way, while I go mine ? ” 
u Your way will be mine till you give me my money! ” 
“I ’ll give you a broken back over that log! ” Winslow 
snarled; and the struggle recommenced, both settling 
down to business. 

They tugged and wrenched and lifted, Winslow trying 
to throw Quint over the log; Quint avoiding it, and at the 
same time doing his utmost to get Winslow on his hip, 
fling him, and fall upon him. 

Suddenly Winslow, freeing one hand, got it inside his 
waterproof and into his trousers-pocket. But before he 
could fairly grasp the knife he was evidently reaching 
for, his arm was clutched again; he was forced violently 
backward. In another moment he was himself tripped 
over the log, and, falling, both went down together. 


XXV 


A COMPANION FINDS CLIFF 



HROUGH all the tumult of the storm 
Cliff slumbered on his heap of straw, 
to be at last awakened by something 
like a blow grazing his cheek and strik¬ 
ing him full upon the breast. He 
started from his dreams, and put out 
his hand. He thought he was in his bed at home, and that 
he had been hit by his brother Amos tumbling about in 
his sleep. 

Then it seemed as if something was moving in the room. 
He heard a rustling sound, and the hand he put out for 
his brother touched straw. 

It was not so dark but that he could see the great open 
front of the shed, the overhanging roof, and the dim 
shape of the farm-wagon under it. Recollection returned 
with a shock, and he was terrified to find that he had fallen 
asleep while waiting for his friend—he could n’t imagine 
how long ago 5 it might have been hours. 

11 Hello ! ” he cried out, in the wild hope that the move- 
156 



A COMPANION FINDS CLIFF 


157 


ments he had heard were those of Quint, who had per¬ 
haps returned to the shed. 

No answer. But the movements continued. There 
was some live creature close behind him ; the straw rustled 
at his very side. He started up, thrilled through and 
through with horrid fear. 

Suddenly the blow on his breast was repeated, and a 
dark object came between him and the light. Something 
wet touched his hands; something warm and moist flashed, 
so to speak, across his face. 

His companion in the shed was a dog. The wagging 
tail thumped his arm; the caressing tongue lapped his 
face. He uttered a sudden cry—something between a 
gasp of astonishment and a sob of wildest joy. 

“ Sparkler! Oh, my gracious Jehu! Sparkler! Quint! 
Quint!” he called; “I ’ve got him!”—as if Quint were 
near. 

Securing a hold of the collar, he hugged the wet crea¬ 
ture to his breast. 

u You don’t get away from me again, you rogue! ” he 
cried, in a tremor of excitement, as he pulled from his 
pocket the cord he had carried all day, slipped one end of 
it about the dog’s collar, and fastened it with a firm knot. 
“ Now this never goes out of my hand! ” 

Sparkler did not even try to get away; he seemed, on 
the contrary, to recognize Cliff with a pleasure to which 
his smiting tail gave vivacious expression. 

“Why did you run away from me? Why did you 
come back? How did you find me here?” said the boy, 


158 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


talking as if his dumb companion could comprehend. 
11 Oh, Sparkler, I wish you could speak! What a story 
you could tell! ” 

The exciting occurrence diverted his mind for a minute 
from its anxieties about Quint. But now he thought of 
him again, with growing amazement and alarm at his 
mysterious absence. He stilled the dog’s movements, 
and knelt upon the straw, listening and wondering, then 
advanced to the opening of the shed. 

The storm was over; the few drops that fell upon his 
hand and shoulder came from the still dripping eaves. 
He went out upon the wet roadside, the dog capering at 
the end of his cord, and gazed up and down. 

“ I know something has happened to him! ” he wailed, 
his mind full of torturing conjectures. 

The night was not dark, and it seemed to be growing 
lighter every moment ; and he reasoned that it could n’t 
be very late, as there was a glimmer still visible in the 
windows of the farm-house behind the shed. 

He blamed himself bitterly for falling asleep; for it 
now occurred to him that Quint might have returned to 
the shed, and, failing to find him in the dark, have gone 
off in search of him on the lower branch of the forked 
road. 

Or he might have taken refuge in the farm-house close 
by. But that would n’t be like Quint. No; Cliff felt sure 
that some dreadful thing had befallen his friend. 

“ Oh, Sparkler,” he exclaimed in his misery, u can’t you 
tell me what to do ? ” 


A COMPANION FINDS CLIFF 


159 


The dog had at first seemed averse to quitting the dark 
corner of the shed, even hounding back toward the man¬ 
ger when Cliff pulled him away. But now, on the open 
road, as if he had understood the boy’s appeal, he began 
to tug at the cord in the direction in which Cliff was him¬ 
self inclined to go. 

He hesitated, considering whether he ought not first to 
make inquiries at the farm-house. As he paused, Spar¬ 
kler turned and regarded him. 

“ What is it, Sparkler ? ” he asked. 

The dog leaped up, gave an intelligent bark, and 
immediately drew the cord again in the direction of the 
hill road. 

“ Go ahead! ” cried Cliff, with sudden hope and confi¬ 
dence. “ I ’ll trust you! ” 

He was still full of imaginary fears, but he was com¬ 
forted by the companionship of the dog, and occasionally, 
through all his troubles, would break a gleam of pure joy 
at the thought of Sparkler once more in his possession. 

11 Won’t Quint be glad when he knows!” he said to 
himself, more than once. u And won’t it be strange good 
luck if it turns out that he has found Winslow, while I 
have got the dog! ” 

The hope that this might be so had been among his 
many conjectures, but he had put it aside as something 
far too good to be true; it seemed so much more likely 
that Quint had come to grief in some encounter with the 
dog-seller. 

But Sparkler’s actions inspired him; at the same time 
10 


160 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


the world was growing lighter and still lighter, and he 
perceived that the western sky was clearing. A bright 
star appeared beneath the edge of broken and low-hang¬ 
ing clouds, and shone with inexpressible beauty and 
purity in the opening rift. That glimpse of the serene 
heavens after the storm was like a promise of triumph to 
the boy’s troubled soul. 

The rift widened rapidly, showing more and more 
stars; then all at once a flood of white radiance filled the 
night. Cliff looked up, and there, almost overhead in the 
wild sky, was the moon. It peered over the edge of a 
great black rampart of cloud, as if to reassure the storm- 
buffeted sphere with its cold, placid smile. 

Cliff kept on, often pausing and taxing every sense to 
discern signs of his lost comrade, until suddenly Sparkler 
jumped up on the roadside, jerking at the cord. They 
were on the outskirts of a wood-lot, and a passing gust of 
wind shook down pattering drops from the branches 
overhead. The moonlight, slanting through the boughs 
and silvering the undergrowth, showed a dark log on the 
ground, toward which Sparkler led the way. 

Near the log was a dark-gray object, at which Sparkler 
was presently sniffing. Cliff ran to it, stooped over it, 
caught it up, and examined it with astonishment which 
quickly became consternation. It was a hat. 

A common felt hat, of a well-worn appearance, with a 
narrow brim and shapeless crown, crushed as if it had 
been trampled on, yet just such a hat as his friend had 
worn • and there, as if more certainly to identify it, was 


IT WAS A HAT. 








A COMPANION FINDS CLIFF 


163 


a spray of wild roses such as Quint had stuck under the 
band that afternoon. 

Cliff’s fears were thus confirmed. Quint had certainly 
had an encounter with the desperate character they were 
pursuing, and that he had not had the best of it seemed 
proved by the fact that his hat, and not Winslow’s, was 
left on the field. 

That the wearer himself had not been left with the hat 
afforded some ground for hope. 

11 His hat may have been knocked off, and he may have 
left it to hold on to the fellow,” was Cliff’s reasonable 
conjecture. “ That would be just like Quint.” 

But what had happened to him since ? In continuing 
the struggle he might have met with some terrible mis¬ 
hap ; and Cliff’s excited imagination pictured his friend 
lying on the ground somewhere in the woods, disabled— 
possibly worse. 

He stood on the edge of the moon-lit woodland, and 
called with all his force of throat and lungs: 

u Hello-o-o, Quint! Hello-o-o ! ” 

His voice died away in the depths of the forest, and 
not even an echo came back. A curdling terror crept 
through his veins. 

Sparkler meanwhile tugged at his leash and sniffed 
along the ground. The drenching shower must have 
carried away, for the most part, such evidences of his 
master’s presence as his delicate canine scent would 
otherwise have been quick to detect and follow; but he 
was strangely perturbed. 


164 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


« Oh, Sparkler!” Cliff pleaded, “ seek-seek him ! m 
the fond belief that by pursuing Winslow the dog might 
help him find his friend. 

Sparkler’s nose stopped at something half buried in a 
clump of moss. It was a bright object, with a shining 
edge turned up in the moonlight. Cliff darted to pick 
it up. 

“ Only a piece of knife-handle! ” he exclaimed. “ Have 
they been breaking knives ? ” he wondered. It appeared 
to have been trodden into the moss. 

He would have thrown it away as something worthless 
but for the possibility of its affording some clue to the 
harrowing mystery. 

It was about the size and shape of the thing he took it 
for, but unlike any knife he had ever seen in Quint’s 
hands. He was carefully scrutinizing it, holding it up in 
the moonlight with one hand, the end of the cord in the 
other, along with Quint’s hat, wholly forgetting Sparkler 
in that moment of intense thought, when he was reminded 
of the dog in an unpleasantly surprising manner. 

Sparkler, who had been sniffing again about his feet, 
gave a sudden bounce; the cord was jerked from Cliff’s 
relaxed hold, and in an instant the dog darted away in 
the checkered moonshine, with the cord flying like a faint 
streak at his heels. 

“ He’s gone!” said Cliff, in rage and despair. u Let him 
go ! I wish I had never seen him! ” 


XXVI 

CAPTOR OR CAPTIVE? 

INT’S hat had been knocked off by the 
first glancing blow from Winslow’s fist, 
and when, in the final struggle, they 
plunged over the log together, the boy 
from Biddicut struck his unprotected 
head against the root of a tree. Though 
partially stunned, he was on his feet again almost im¬ 
mediately, but only in time to see a dim figure dart away, 
in the rain, in the direction of the cross-road. 

Without waiting to recover his hat, or to search for the 
knife which he thought flew from Winslow’s pocket with 
the out jerked hand, he started at once in pursuit, stum- 
blingly at first, then with more certain steps as he rallied 
from the effect of his fall. 

It was a strange race in the midst of the mad storm, 
gusts of wind, rain that came down in veiling sheets, 
lightning-gleams and crashes of thunder. A flash at a 
critical instant showed the fugitive taking the southern 
branch of the cross-road, and from that time Quint had 
little difficulty in following him. 

165 





166 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


At first the distance between them seemed to increase, 
then for a while to continue about the same. Each had 
started out with breath spent by the scuffle, and Quint 
was put to a still further disadvantage by his dive against 
the tree. Then gradually his forces returned 5 he drew 
deep breaths as he ran; and with the sense of restored 
power the fury of his resolution came back. 

So, though a fair match for him in a wrestling-bout, 
the dog-seller soon found that he could n’t compete with 
the tall Biddicut boy in a foot-race. His breath was 
utterly gone when, hearing Quint close at his heels, he 
turned and faced him. 

“ Are n’t we a couple of fools! ” he articulated pantingly. 

11 If you are speaking for yourself, I don’t know of any¬ 
body that will dispute you,” Quint replied, in much bet¬ 
ter breath and voice. 

He did n’t offer to lay hands on Winslow, but, bare¬ 
headed, his hair disordered, his features dripping in the 
rain, and showing a ghastly streak on the left temple, he 
confronted him. 

“What do you propose to do now?” said the dog- 
seller. 

“ Stick by you,” said Quint, grimly. 

“ Had n’t you better go back and pick up your hat ? 
You seem to have come off in a hurry,” said Winslow, his 
jeering spirit returning. 

His own duster, or waterproof, had been torn open in 
the scuffle, and he was holding it together over his breast. 

“ If I had known you could n’t run any better, I should 


CAPTOR OR CAPTIVE? 


167 


have had more leisure,” Quint replied. “I might have 
picked up my hat, and your knife too.” 

Winslow clapped a hand on his pocket, with a startled 
look. 

“ My knife is here,” he said. “ What are you talking 
about ? ” 

“If it ’s there, I hope it will keep there,” said Quint, 
with a high and stern expression. “ Try to draw it on 
me again, and I ’ll wring your neck as I would a spring 
chicken’s.” 

“Draw it on you?” cried the dog-seller. “You ’re 
crazy! ” 

“Maybe I did n’t keep you busy enough in that little 
tussle, and you were going to fill up the time whittling 
the log some more,” Quint drawled sarcastically. 

“ Maybe that, or maybe I thought I could lick a boy 
like you with one hand in my pocket—as I could, if I 
had n’t stumbled,” said Winslow. 

“ Then what was your terrific hurry to get away—from 
a boy like me ? ” replied Quint. 

“ To get out of the rain ; that’s what I am going to do 
now,” said Winslow, walking on. “ Are n’t you going back 
for your hat ? ” 

“ I ’ve more important business just now,” Quint an¬ 
swered, again keeping close to his side. 

How extremely anxious he was to go back, he was care¬ 
ful not to betray. Not for his hat, indeed, but in follow¬ 
ing Winslow he was going farther and farther away from 
Cliff, of whose assistance he was in such desperate need. 


168 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


But he would not go back without his captive, nor could 
he devise any means of taking his captive with him. 

It was a singular dilemma—the captive leading away 
the captor! But there seemed to be no help for it, unless 
the captor abandoned his purpose, as he had never a 
thought of doing, although far more apprehensive than 
he appeared as to the outcome of the amazing adventure. 

Winslow would no doubt have offered more liberal 
terms of settlement if he had known what sort of boy 
was behind the “ gambrel-roof nose.” But a rogue may 
have pride as well as an honest man, and he was not one 
to give up his ill-gotten “profits” at the demand of a 
seventeen-year-old “country bumpkin.” He knew no 
more than Quint did how the affair was to end, but he 
would trust to luck and his good wit to carry him through. 

While Quint was bent on sticking to him, he was 
watching for an opportunity to get rid of Quint. The 
thunder and lightning ceased, or became distant, but it 
rained steadily, and the darkness was increasing. 

The road ran at right angles from the one to which 
Quint would gladly have returned; but he shrewdly 
guessed that it would soon strike one parallel to that, 
perhaps the main thoroughfare that traversed the village 
where he had bought crackers and cheese with Cliff, and 
helped the teamsters with their hot box. 

The two walked on without speaking, and before many 
minutes came to the very street of Quint’s conjecture. 
The cross-road ended there, and a broader highway 
stretched away in the darkness to the right and left. To 


CAPTOR OR CAPTIVE? 


169 


the right it led into an unknown region $ to the left it led 
back to the village Quint knew. There were no lights 
visible, except in the windows of a few scattered houses. 

“ Here ’s a lamp-post,” said Winslow, stopping on a 
corner. “Why is there no light?” 

“Because there is supposed to be a moon,” replied 
Quint. “ That ’s the way it is in Biddicut; no matter 
how dark and stormy the nights are, the street-lamps 
are never lighted if there happens to be a moon in the 
almanac.” 

“Do you know where we are?” Winslow inquired. 

“We are about a mile and a half from the Star Grove 
Hotel, which lies in this direction,” Quint answered, 
pointing. 

“That 7 s according to my calculation,” Winslow re¬ 
marked, as he turned the corner in the direction of the 
village, to the immense but secret satisfaction of his 
captor. 

Another long silence. They were rapidly approaching 
the village. 

“Are we going to keep this up all night?” the dog- 
seller inquired. 

“ That ’s for you to say/’ Quint replied. “ If you walk, 
I walk. After the shower is over, exercise will dry us.” 

Another silence. Then Winslow asked: 

“ Where’s Cassius all this time ? ” 

“ He’s getting rested, so he ’ll be fresh for hooking on 
to you, if I find the thing growing monotonous.” 

“Well,” said Winslow, decisively, “I’m going to the 


170 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Star Grove Hotel! 77 —the lights of which were now visible 
over the village roofs and trees. “I 7 ve engaged a room 
there. 77 

“I > m with you/ 7 Quint remarked cheerfully. “The 
hotel will be a good place to call a convention of the 
people you 7 ve sold your dog to. 77 

“ That 7 s what you propose, is it ? 77 Winslow retorted. 

“ I don 7 t propose anything. What I do will depend on 
you. I 7 ve only one plan—to get my money back, or to 
see you locked up. That 7 s the kind of country bumpkin 
I am. 77 

“You want to try that game ? 77 cried Winslow, defiantly. 
“ Here 7 s your chance ! 77 

It was a chance Quint had been eagerly looking for, 
with but little hope, however, that he would be allowed 
to take advantage of it. 

They had reached the center of the village, which he 
recognized, although its aspect was changed from what 
it had been when he and Cliff passed and repassed 
through its principal streets that afternoon. They were 
now plashy and deserted, and doors were closed against 
the storm. A little off from the corner, not far ahead, 
was the broadly lighted front window of the grocery on 
the steps of which Cliff had rested, and munched his 
crackers and cheese, while Quint went to join the team¬ 
sters around the hot box. 

On another corner, still nearer, was an establishment in 
which Quint was more intensely interested just now. 
This was the police headquarters. Here he had stopped 



“ ‘POLICE,’ HE CRIED, ‘I’VE BROUGHT YOU A HIGHWAY ROBBER!’” 












CAPTOR OR CAPTIVE? 


173 


with Cliff to make inquiries, while following Sparkler 
back through the village, and had told enough of their 
story to insure him a ready hearing, he believed, if he 
could now succeed in taking Winslow to the door. 

He had hardly expected to bring him even within sight 
of it, for Winslow probably knew the town as well as he 
did, and that was one of the places which persons of his 
character are usually solicitous to avoid. Perhaps he had 
not been so quick as Quint was to recognize the situation j 
but he certainly recognized it now. For there, right 
across the way, on a broad transparency lighted from 
within, were the conspicuous letters— Police. 

Winslow perceived the sign as soon as Quint did 5 but 
instead of retreating or hurrying by, he put on a bold 
front, and repeated: 

“ Here’s your chance! Think I’m afraid of that ? ” 

Fearing some trick, but prepared to fling himself upon 
Winslow the instant he should detect an attempt at one, 
Quint answered promptly: 

“ All right! Cross over with me ! ” 

“1 ’ll do that,” said Winslow, “ and we ’ll soon see 
what your blackmailing scheme is good for.” 

So saying, he crossed over with Quint to the door of 
the station. It was closed, but the light from the window 
shone mistily upon them as they stood there a moment 
in the rain, alert, suspicious, each eager to fathom the 
other’s intentions. 

“Why don’t you go ahead?” said Winslow, with an 
ironic smile. 


174 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“The oldest first—age before beauty,” Quint replied. 

“ Come along, then! ” said the dog-seller, with an air of 
bravado, mounting the two steps that led to the door. 

Quint was so intent upon getting him into the station, 
and cutting off his retreat in case he should turn back at 
the last moment, that he was wholly unprepared for what 
followed. 

“ Come along! ” Winslow repeated, raising his voice as 
he threw open the door, at the same time clutching the 
astonished Biddicut boy by the collar and dragging him 
forward over the threshold. “Police,” he cried, “I ? ve 
brought you a highway robber! ” 

Captor and captive had all at once changed places. 


XXYII 


HOW WINSLOW HUNTED FOR HIS WATCH 



HERE was but one person in the room, 
a sturdy Americanized Irishman. Un¬ 
fortunately, he was not the officer of 
whom the boys had made inquiries that 
afternoon. He was writing at a desk 
in a little railed-off space, with his broad 
back to the door, when it was burst open in this extraor¬ 
dinary manner. 

He stepped promptly outside the rail, and seized hold 
of Quint, who was struggling with Winslow. 

“ Be quiet, will you! ” Then, to the pretended captor: 
u What has he done ? ” 

“ Stopped me on the street,” Winslow exclaimed, show¬ 
ing his thin outer garment torn open at the breast, 
“ snatched my watch, and ran! I caught him, and he 
flung it away, a few rods back here.” 

Quint meanwhile was holding fast to Winslow and 
trying to speak. His bare head, his drenched hair and 

175 



176 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


garments, his rain-streaked features, showing the effects 
of his wearisome all-day tramp and of the present excite¬ 
ment,—rendered ghastly, moreover, by an ugly bruise on 
the temple,—all combined to give him the aspect of a 
desperate and disreputable character. 

“Be quiet, or I ’ll quiet you! ” said the officer. “Take 
away your hand! ” 

Quint released his hold upon Winslow. “I ’ll be 
quiet,” he said; “ only let me tell my story.” 

“You ’ll have time for that,” said the officer, quickly 
slipping a pair of handcuffs on the astounded prisoner. 

“Wait till I pick up my watch; I know just where he 
dropped it,” said Winslow. 

“ Keep him! keep him! Don’t let him go ! ” Quint 
fairly howled. 

But Winslow was already out of the station. 

He did not lose time in any pretended watch-hunt, but 
skipped lightly around the nearest corner, and took his 
darksome way toward the Star Grove Hotel. 

He had no present intention, however, of seeking the 
hospitality of that popular place of resort, although, but 
for his untoward adventure with Quint, he might now 
have been snugly ensconced behind those warmly lighted 
windows, instead of wandering forlorn in a wet and dis¬ 
mal world. 

He hurried along the gloomy street with the inviting 
hotel lights shining mistily at the end of the vista, but 
with his mind turned steadily from that temptation, 
toward some less public place of refuge. A young man 


HOW WINSLOW HUNTED FOR HIS WATCH 177 


of ready resources, he kept his eye out for opportunities, 
and discovered one before he had gone far. 

A little way back from the street, a stable door stood 
open, showing a dimly lighted interior, and the silhouette 
of a horse’s hind quarters dark against the glow beyond. 
Keeping close by the fence, he slipped in at the gate, and, 
avoiding the faint glimmer of diffused light shed before 
the doorway, got into the shadow, close against the corner 
of the stable. 

There he paused to consider the situation and learn if 
his movements had been observed. The rain was about 
over, but a tin eaves-spout gurgled and tinkled in his ear 
as he peered cautiously around the door-post. 

He could hear the tranquil champing of the horses at 
their racks, and sounds as of some person scattering the 
litter of their beds, or slapping one to make him give 
room. The unbidden guest quietly stepped inside, ready 
with some word to excuse his presence in case it should 
be challenged. The nearest horse, whose silhouette he 
had seen from without, stopped champing, and turned 
his head to regard the stranger; but the horse in the 
next stall nippingly pulled a fresh wisp of hay from his 
rack, and the rustle of the bedding-down continued. 

At the left of the entrance was a stairway leading to 
some dark loft, and beside the stairway was a passage 
opening into a gloomy space, which he judged rightly to 
be the barn part of the premises. His choice lay between 
the passage and the stairway, and choosing the passage, 
he tiptoed into it. 


178 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Stand around! ” ordered the man in the stalls, giving 
another flank a resounding slap, and a quick movement 
of hoofs sounded in the stalls. 

Winslow grew holder. Along the range of stalls 
beneath the loft was an opening in the partition, through 
which the lantern-light threw broken gleams over the 
horses 7 heads and through the racks half filled with hay, 
enabling the dog-seller to make out the principal objects 
in what promised to afford a safe and cozy hiding-place. 

Before him was a loaded hay-wagon, pretty well filling 
the front space of the barn. In the rear was a covered 
carriage, with boxes and barrels dimly discernible in a far 
corner. The barn was full of the fragrance of new hay, 
and there was hay scattered on the floor, under the side 
of the loaded rick. 

To creep under the wagon and pull some of this litter 
over him, or to climb into the carriage and intrench him¬ 
self in cushions, or even to crouch behind the barrels 
until he could have a little time to consider—he had his 
choice of these expedients. But he adopted neither. 
Seeing a ladder placed against the broad bulk of the load, 
he mounted it nimbly, and laid himself flat on the hay. 

He soon heard the man in the stalls go out, speaking to 
the horses as he passed their heels, and closing the door 
after him. With the man went the lantern, and the barn 
was left in darkness and in silence, except that the horses 
continued to champ, and now and then one changed his 
footing on the plank floor. 

Winslow now sat up, and, removing his torn water- 


HOW WINSLOW HUNTED FOR HIS WATCH 179 


proof, spread it on the hay. He cared for his hat (origi¬ 
nally of stiff straw) by placing it on a smooth part of the 
garment, with the rim downward, to preserve its shape in 
drying. He had more trouble with his soaked boots, but 
he got them off too, after some panting efforts. 

He was quite self-possessed, and no doubt congratu¬ 
lated himself on his good luck. If he had any fear that 
he might have been seen entering the stable, it passed 
quickly. 

“ I seem to be right side up with care! ” he said to 
himself, as he loosened his damp and matted locks, and 
buried his feet in the dry hay. “Wonder how it is with 
friend Marcus Brutus! ” 

If he had been vastly worse off than he found himself, 
he would have had to laugh at the neat trick he had 
played upon that “country bumpkin.” 

He was certain he had heard a lock click, after the man 
with the lantern went out and shut the door. But that 
did n’t give him the least concern. He had no doubt of 
being able to open some other door from the inside, or at 
least a window, and effect an easy and safe egress some¬ 
time in the still hours of the early morning. It was n’t 
like being in the lockup ! 

“ I prefer to furnish a substitute for that,” he chuckled. 
“ This is n’t a first-class hotel,—not the Star Grove,—but 
it will do for Algernon K. W., under existing circum¬ 
stances.” 

The barn did n’t seem very dark after his eyes got 
accustomed to the obscurity, and before long the win- 
11 


180 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


dows, of which he had two in sight as he sat up, bright¬ 
ened with signs of a clearing sky. It was still early in 
the evening, he was habituated to late hours, and his nap 
in the Star Grove hammock left him little disposed to 
sleep. 

Rest and warmth and a sense of security were agree¬ 
able to him, however, and, stretching himself out on the 
hay, he occupied a wakeful hour in planning further 
operations with Sparkler. 

A shaft of moonlight slanted through one of the 
sashes, and filled the gloomy solitude with a soft translu- 
cency. The horses ceased champing, and soon one of 
them lay down in the stall with a comfortable groan. It 
was time for the adventurer to get a little sleep, in order 
to make his contemplated early start in the morning. 
He was just falling into a drowse when he was startled 
out of it by the opening of a door, the sound of voices, 
and the shining of a lantern in the barn. 


XXVIII 


“a prodigious blunder” 



VEN with the handcuffs on his wrists, 
Quint would have rushed out in pursuit 
of the escaping Algernon, if the officer 
had n’t detained him. 

“ He is the robber! Let me go! ” he 
cried, trying to get away. 

“Will you quit?” demanded the officer, holding him 
firmly by one manacled wrist. 

“ I ’ll quit if I must,” Quint replied; “ but I never 
thought it was the business of the police to help the 
rogues instead of the honest men.” 

“We ’ll see who is the rogue in this case,” said the 
officer, slightly disconcerted by Winslow’s sudden dis¬ 
appearance, and by the prisoner’s vehement protest— 
“when he comes back with the watch.” 

“ There was no watch ! ” Quint declared. “ He won’t 
come back! If he does, you may believe I am the robber, 
and not that he has got my money.” 

It is not probable that the deliberative Biddicut boy 
181 











182 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


had ever before spoken so volubly and vehemently. 
Fully roused, furiously indignant, he turned from gazing 
after the vanished figure, and glared upon the officer. 

Only the rain was heard outside the open door. The 
sound of fleeing footsteps had died away. No figure 
groping along the ground in search of a watch, nor any 
other moving object, was visible in the plashy street. 
After looking out and listening a moment, the officer 
addressed his prisoner: 

“ What were you resisting for ? ” 

11 1 was n’t resistingj I was only trying to hold on to 
him, while you were letting him go. Could n’t you see 
what he was up to ? ” said Quint, his grim face wrathfully 
glowering. “ I had brought him in, instead of his bringing 
me! ” 

“It did n’t look so,” said the officer, incredulous, but 
evidently disturbed. “ He was dragging you after him.” 

“ I ’ll tell you how that was,” said Quint. “ The minute 
I got him to the door, and was making him come in first, 
he grabbed me by the collar and snaked me over the top 
step so suddenly I stumbled. Then you thought I was 
fighting to get away, when I was only keeping him from 
getting away.” 

The officer was all the while looking out for the return¬ 
ing watch-hunter and frowning dubiously. Again he 
turned and looked Quint carefully over. 

“It ’s an improbable story you tell,” he declared. 
“You could n’t capture and bring in a man like him. 
Impossible! ” 


“A PRODIGIOUS BLUNDER” 


183 


“Would it be any more possible for him to bring me 
in ? ” Quint retorted, standing at his full height, and look¬ 
ing sternly into the eyes of the officer, who, though a 
good-sized man, was hardly taller than he. 

“You are bigger than I thought when you came 
sprawling in.” 

“You thought then I was big enough to play the high¬ 
way robber. I own I could n’t have brought him here if 
he had n’t been willing, any more than he could have 
brought me. I had been following him all day—I had 
just caught him—and then to have the police help him 
get away! ” 

Quint crushed some angry word in his teeth, and his 
ghastly features worked with repressed emotion. 

“ How had he robbed you f ” the officer demanded. 

Quint told something of the dog-seller’s operations, and 
went on: 

“We followed him all the way from Biddicut, through 
I don’t know how many towns. I was alone when I fell 
in with him this evening. He tried to shake me off, and 
we had a squabble. But I stuck to him till we came in 
sight of your station. Then I should have called for help, 
if he had n’t himself proposed to come in. He had his 
trick already planned.” 

“Did he give you that blow on the forehead?” the 
officer inquired. 

Quint put up his hand. “ I did n’t know I had one! 
He struck me three or four times. But I must have got 
this when we fell over a log together, and my head tried 


184 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


to occupy the same place with the butt of a tree,” he 
explained solemnly. 

The officer, evidently no longer expectant of Winslow, 
kept glancing up at the clock. He had told Quint he 
could sit down, but Quint remained standing. 

“The chief will be here in a few minutes,” the man 
said. “ Then, if we find you are telling a straight story, 
we ’ll see what we can do for you.” 

“ You can’t do anything now,” Quint answered sullenly, 
“ unless you take off these bracelets. They are n’t comfor¬ 
table, and they are n’t ornamental, and they happen to be 
on the wrong pair of wrists. The other pair is far enough 
out of your reach by this time. After all the trouble 
we’d had! ” He choked a little. “ Nobody is going to 
follow him again as we followed him! ” 

Footsteps were heard approaching along the wooden 
sidewalk. They were heavier than the tread of the light- 
heeled young dog-seller. Another officer stepped up on 
the threshold, handling a furled umbrella. Quint recog¬ 
nized him as the one he and Cliff had made inquiries of 
that afternoon, but said nothing. 

The newcomer regarded the Biddicut boy with 
astonishment, recognizing him only after an effort of 
puzzled reflection. 

“ Hello ! ” he said, “ what has happened to you ? ” 

“ Ask him ! ” Quint replied, with morose wrath. 

“ What is it, Terry ? ” the chief demanded. 

Terry told his story. Then Quint told all that was 
necessary of his. An expression of disgust settled upon 


“A PRODIGIOUS BLUNDER 


185 


the face of the chief—a much more refined and intelli¬ 
gent face than that of the subordinate. 

“Terry/’ he said, “it ’s a prodigious blunder. This 
boy’s story corresponds with what he and his chum told 
me this afternoon. That fellow won’t find any watch; 
’t is n’t a good night for finding watches. Take off that 
pair of rings ! ” 

Terry quietly removed the handcuffs. 

“ Now, go out and see if you can find anything of the 
other party to this affair,” said his superior. “ I ’ll give 
you fifteen minutes to produce him, with or without the 
watch. If he does n’t put in an appearance by that time, 
we shall know he’s a fraud.” 

With a sarcastic smile he watched Terry’s departure on 
his ridiculous errand, then looked at Quint, silent, surly, 
his pale face rain-streaked and blood-stained, his wet 
clothes beginning to steam in the warm air of the station. 

“ You may as well sit down and take it easy,” the chief 
said kindly, pushing a stool toward him. 

■“ I’m too mad to sit down,” said Quint. “ Besides, my 
partner is waiting for me in that cart-shed, if he is n’t 
hunting for me. I must put out and find him, as soon as 
you make up your minds that I’m not a highwayman.” 

He seated himself on the stool, nevertheless, with a 
strangely haggard aspect. 

“You’ve had a pretty hard time,” observed the chief, 
regarding him curiously. 

“ I have n’t had leisure to think of that,” Quint replied. 
“ If I had kept the fellow, that would have rested me for 


186 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


all my life ! I should n’t mind anything—lost hat, empty 
stomach, broken head, wet skin! As it is—” He choked 
up again with rage and grief. 

“ I ’ll dry you off,” said the chief, stooping to open the 
door of an air-tight stove. 

There were kindlings laid in it, ready for lighting. He 
touched a match to them, and in a few seconds it was 
roaring and cracking close behind the boy’s wet back. 

“I wish—Cliff—was here,” Quint murmured, with a 
long-drawn sigh. Even he was breaking down at last. 

Considerably within the allotted fifteen minutes Terry 
returned, disconsolate, and obliged to confess that his 
watch-hunter was still missing. 

“ But he looked so respectable, compared with — ” he 
glanced at poor Quint on his stool—“ anybody might 
have made the mistake.” 

“Anyhow, it has been made,” said the chief, “and now 
we must see what can be done to rectify it. We can’t 
catch the scamp,—not to-night, anyway,—but we may do 
something for this boy. It’s time to be thinking of that.” 

It was time indeed. His weariness and discourage¬ 
ment, the reaction from his late terrible excitement, his 
want of substantial food, and now the stifling heat of the 
stove and the odor of his own steaming garments, were 
producing an alarming effect upon the boy from Biddi- 
cut. He turned sick and dizzy, and the chief had but 
just time to spring to his support when he reeled side- 
wise, tumbling from the stool. 


XXIX 


WHAT WAS HIDDEN IN THE MANGER 



HE last trick of the trick-dog had sur¬ 
prised Cliff at a moment when he was 
so full of trouble that he exclaimed, in 
his despair, “ Let him go! ” and cared 
little if he never beheld him again. 
What disappointments, what fatigues, 
that wily and treacherous animal had caused him! And 
now had come this climax of the boy’s woes, this horrible 
uncertainty as to what had befallen his faithful friend 
Quint. 

He would scarcely have gone out of his way to resume 
his pursuit of the fugitive j nevertheless, even in his 
wretched state of mind, it was a matter of interest that 
Sparkler had gone back in the direction from which they 
had come—the way Cliff must himself now return. 

He called again; he explored the ground all about— 
under the trees, and in the corners of the intersecting 
roads. He looked off in every direction, in the vain hope 
of seeing a human figure start out, somewhere, from 

187 



188 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


amidst the shadows; then, with a heavy heart, he turned 
back toward the roadside shed. 

He had but a flickering hope of finding that Quint had 
reached the rendezvous, and it died within him. before he 
had fairly passed beneath the shadow cast by the roof 
upon the moon-lit wayside. He called Quint’s name, and 
kicked the heap of straw; for although his friend was 
foremost in his thoughts, he also entertained the possi¬ 
bility of Sparkler’s having sought again that comfortable 
bed. But neither dog nor friend made sound or sign in 
that solitary shelter. 

One thing remained now to do—to go to the farm¬ 
house where he had seen a light, make known his distress, 
and ask for advice, if not for assistance. He wished he 
had done so before; he wished so with bitter regret 
when, looking again, he saw that the light was extin¬ 
guished. 

He stood gazing at the darkened windows, and up and 
down the road, when he perceived another light. It was 
not in any farm-house; it was evidently in motion; it was 
approaching in the middle of the highway. The moon¬ 
beams reduced its rays to a feeble glimmer, and soon 
revealed the form of a man carrying it—a stocky man, 
in a buttoned frock-coat, and wearing a round-topped 
hat. 

Cliff watched his approach, and drew back into the 
shed to wait, filled with a fearful hope that the coming of 
the man with the lantern somehow concerned him and 
Quint and their strange night adventure. 


WHAT WAS HIDDEN IN THE MANGER 


189 


“If he is coming for me, he will stop here/’ he said to 
himself. “If he is going by, I will stop him” And he 
waited in breathless suspense. 

Arrived at the shed, the man turned into it, and, hold¬ 
ing up the lantern where Cliff stood in the shadow, cast 
its light upon both their faces. His own was that of a 
ruddy Americanized Irishman—our friend Terry’s, in 
short. 

“Are you the boy from Biddicut?” he inquired, peer¬ 
ing at Cliff curiously. 

Cliff had already noticed, with a thrill of surprise, that 
the stocky man wore the uniform of a police officer. 

“The other Biddicut boy sent you?” he answered 
eagerly. “Where is he?” 

“ Down at the police station,” the officer replied; “ and 
I have come to fetch you.” 

“Arrested?” Cliff gasped out, with a face of wonder 
and fear. 

“Not exactly,” said the man j “but he has had a rough 
time. He was troubled about you, and I offered to come 
and find you.” 

He would have hit the truth nearer the bull’s-eye if he 
had said that he came at the suggestion of his superior 
officer, and by way of partial atonement for the blunder 
of which poor Quint had been made the victim. 

Cliff anxiously inquired what had happened to the 
other boy from Biddicut. 

“Nothing very serious,” said Terry. “Only he caught 
your dog-dealer, and had a set-to with him.” 


190 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ That ’s what I was afraid of! ” Cliff exclaimed. “ He 
got hurt ? ” 

“He came in for a little punishment,” said Terry. 
“ But he stuck to him, and brought him to the station.” 

“ Oh, Quint! He ’s great! ” cried Cliff, with premature 
exultation. 

“ >T was a fine piece of work,” Terry admitted j “ but at 
the last moment the rogue turned the tables on him by a 
cunning trick, and got away.” 

“ Oh! how could he ? ” Cliff wailed, 

“ I’ll tell you on the way back. We We made your friend 
pretty comfortable, and he wants you to join him. That ’s 
his hat you have ? I was to look for that as well as for you.” 

“To think,” exclaimed Cliff, “that he should have 
caught Winslow, and I the dog, and that both should 
have got away! ” 

He was explaining how Sparkler had found him on the 
straw there, when he paused in amazement at sight of an 
object revealed by the rays of Terry’s lantern. It was a 
piece of most familiar-looking cord hanging over the side 
of the manger. 

He sprang to seize hold of it. 

“ The lantern! hold the lantern ! ” he cried, slipping his 
hand swiftly along the cord toward some object to which 
it was evidently attached. 

Terry lifted the lantern, and exposed to view, curled up 
in the bottom of the manger, and pretending to be fast 
asleep, but doubtless as wide awake as any four-footed 
creature on the face of the globe at that moment, the 



‘“I’LL HOLD YOU THIS TIME, IF I LIVE!’ CLIFF EXCLAIMED JUBILANTLY 







WHAT WAS HIDDEN IN THE MANGER 


193 


twice-lost Sparkler! — Sparkler, wisest of dogs, yet not 
wise enough to consider that it was a short-sighted and 
ostrich-like policy, in hiding, to leave the end of his leash 
trailing so far behind him! 

“I 11 hold you this time, if I live! ” Cliff exclaimed 
jubilantly. 

He examined the loop he had previously knotted about 
the collar, and made sure that the dog had not attempted 
to gnaw the cord, the other end of which he now tight¬ 
ened in a slip-noose about his own wrist. 

“ I ought to have done this before,” he said 5 u but I had 
what I thought was a good turn of it around my hand, 
when he jumped so suddenly and snatched it away from 
me. What do you mean, Sparkler ? ” 

Sparkler stood with his fore paws on the side of the 
manger, wagging his tail, and looking brightly conscious, 
as his custom was, after the performance of a successful 
trick. He seemed not at all averse to being recaptured 
by the boy who had lately been his master 5 he even 
showed his teeth with something like a laugh. 

u I declare, he’s grinning at me ! ” Cliff exclaimed. “ I 
can’t make him out. I thought he ran in here in the first 
place to get out of the rain • and he seemed so pleased to 
have found me, I was quite taken in and thrown off my 
guard. He sha’n’t fool me so again.” 

Sparkler wagged and winked, and kept his expressive 
mouth open just enough to hint his appreciation of the 
joke. He seemed reluctant to leave the manger, but Cliff 
forced him to take the leap. 


194 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“What 's this, do you believe? He was guarding 
something,” said Terry, lowering his lantern into the 
vacated manger. 

Sparkler sprang back instantly, the length of his leash, 
and seizing the officer's coat-tail, tugged at it with a 
menacing snarl. 

“ Sparkler, behave! " Cliff commanded, pulling him off. 
“ See what it is $ I '11 hold him.'' 

Terry thereupon fished up a curiously shaped roll, 
which fell open in his hand and assumed the shape of a 
flat, empty bag, Sparkler growling and springing to get 
at him. 

“ That's Winslow's! " cried Cliff, in high excitement. 
“It's his gray linen gripsack! I understand the busi¬ 
ness now!" 

As the officer was mystified, the boy briefly explained: 

“He followed Winslow as long as Winslow carried 
that. It might be a roll he could put into his pocket, 
or it might be a bag with his duster in it. But if he left 
it anywhere, then the dog knew he was to meet him at 
that place, or wait for him there, after they had separated. 
He had come back to stay with the bag when he found 
me here.'' 

“ If that was the scheme,'' observed Terry, “ then your 
man will be coming around sometime to meet your dog.'' 

“ That's so! " said Cliff. “ He might have been on his 
way here when Quint tackled him—though the dog could 
hardly have been expected to get back here so soon. 
When he is sold in the evening, I don't suppose he 


WHAT WAS HIDDEN IN THE MANGER 


195 


usually gets away before morning. That was my experi¬ 
ence with him. What shall we do with the bag ? ” 

“Leave it just as we found it,” said Terry. “The 
owner will be coming for it in the morning, and to keep 
his appointment with the dog, unless he is shadowing us 
now, which I don’t think likely.” 

“It must have been covered with straw; I got all of 
this litter out of the manger,” said Cliff. “That may 
have been what upset the dog’s calculations—to find me 
here, lying on the straw that should have been in the 
manger with the bag under it. Now let ’s have it all 
back, and put out the light, and leave everything till my 
partner and I can come in the morning and waylay 
Winslow.” 


XXX 


WHAT CLIFF CARRIED IN HIS POCKET 



^jPARKLER had become quiet after the 
bag was returned to its place, and he 
followed readily when Cliff led him 
from the shed, and set off, guided by 
Terry, down the moon-lit road. 

“What time is it?” Cliff inquired. 

The officer pulled out his watch, and turned its white 
countenance up to the moon. 

“ Twenty minutes of nine.” 

“No later!” exclaimed Cliff. “Will any stores be 
open in the village ? ” 

“ They keep open till nine, as a general thing. If we 
step along lively we may get there before they close. Do 
you want to patronize them to-night ? ” 

“ There’s one thing I must have.” 

“ Before you go to the station and see your friend ? ” 

“Yes, even before thatj for after that it might be too 
late.” 

Cliff explained his purpose, and, on entering the village, 
196 





WHAT CLIFF CARRIED IN HIS POCKET 


197 


Terry took him to a store where small articles of hard¬ 
ware were retailed. He laid Quint’s hat on the counter, 
and inquired: 

“ Have you a small chain for my dog, in place of this 
cord ? ” 

The storekeeper showed his wares; hut the smallest 
chain would have served better for hitching horses than 
for leading a fastidious dog like Sparkler. The boy 
looked disappointed, but, brightening presently, asked: 

u Have you any copper wire ? ” 

Some samples being shown him, he selected one that 
was sufficiently light and flexible, and said: “ Cut me off 
three yards of this.” 

The piece obtained, he made one end fast to the dog’s 
collar, then passed the rest in a long spiral around the 
entire cord, including the loop at his wrist. The two men 
watched him with interest, giving him such assistance as 
he required; but Sparkler looked sleepy and indifferent. 

“ He may gnaw the cord, but I defy him to bite off the 
wire ! How much is to pay ? ” 

As he said this he thrust his free hand into his pocket, 
and drew it out again with something that might have 
been silver or nickel, but was n’t money. 

“What’s this?” he muttered, and it was a moment 
before he recognized the shining object he had picked up 
near the spot where he found Quint’s hat. He had not 
since given it a thought; indeed, he had hardly been con¬ 
scious of slipping it into his pocket in the moment of 
surprise when Sparkler got away from him. Examined 
12 


198 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


in the lamplight, it resembled less the part of a knife- 
handle, which he had at first taken it for. It was in 
shape a long oval, about three inches in length by nearly 
three quarters of an inch in width, thin, and slightly 
curved. In the inner surface were two short rivets. The 
outer surface was brightly polished, with rounded edges, 
and it bore an engraved inscription. 

Cliff held it up to the light, and read the lettering, with 
a face betraying the utmost astonishment, his eyes star¬ 
ing from his head, and his lips forming an inaudible 
exclamation. Then he flung himself upon Sparkler as if 
with intent to throttle instantaneously that unconcerned 
and impassive quadruped. 

His immediate business, however, was not so much 
with the dog as with the dog’s collar. This, it will be 
remembered, was a strap of maroon-colored leather, 
starred with nickel studs about an inch and a half apart, 
except in one place, where two studs seemed to be 
missing. 

With hands trembling in their eagerness, Cliff applied 
his metal plate to the space thus left, and found that it 
not only fitted it, but that the rivets corresponded exactly 
with the two rivet-holes in the collar. 

He sprang to his feet, and was rushing from the store 
in his excitement, when Terry called after him : 

“You ’re leaving your friend’s hat; shall I bring it?” 

“ Yes, please! ” cried Cliff, hardly knowing what he 
said. 

u Shall I pay for the wire, too ? ” 


WHAT CLIFF CARRIED IN HIS POCKET 


199 


Cliff turned back, and held out all his small change in 
his open palm. Whether the storekeeper took much or 
little, he was in no state of mind to care. 

“You seem to be in a rush, all at once,” the man 
remarked, with a smile. 

“Jehu! who would n’t be? Excuse me!” said Cliff, 
remembering that a little politeness would n’t be out of 
place. “ Now, where’s my chum ? ” 

And boy and dog disappeared with the officer. 

Cliff was unwilling to tell any one of his discovery 
until he had imparted the tremendous secret to his 
friend. “ What Quint would say ” was the thought upper¬ 
most in his mind as he accompanied Terry to the station. 

The door was wide open, and within sat Quint, with 
his back to the stove, and his coat and vest hanging near 
it, over the office railing. On the stove were two bowls 
containing hot chocolate, and on a stool beside him was 
a tray pretty well loaded with what looked to be a com¬ 
fortable repast for two—boiled eggs as white as the 
saucer that held them, a loaf of bread, butter and salt, 
knives and spoons and plates. The air of the room was 
warm, despite the open door, and humid from the vapor 
of steaming garments. 

This banquet set before him must have been tempting 
to the tired and hungry boy, now quite recovered from 
his faintness; but Quint was unwilling to taste food until 
his friend, then momently expected, could partake of it 
with him. 

The appearance of Cliff at the door, with Sparkler 


200 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


capering before him, very nearly proved disastrous to the 
contents of the tray, which Quint’s knee knocked in his 
sudden attempt to rise. Fortunately, he caught it, and 
steadied it on the stool. 

“The dog?” he cried, his face lighting up joyfully. 
“ Cliff, you ’ve beat me! I 7 m glad one of us has had 
some luck! ” 

“ Don’t say luck till I tell you! ” replied Cliff, in glee¬ 
ful agitation. “ Whether it’s luck or not, I don’t know ; 
but it’s great! ” 

“ Why, what’s that ? ” Quint asked, as Cliff held out to 
him the metal plate. 

“ Read what’s on it ; then I ’ll show you! ” 

No common adjectives seemed strong enough to ex¬ 
press Quint’s astonishment as he read the inscription; 
but the famous words of Brutus, which he had so often 
spouted, broke from his lips with a force of feeling he 
had never put into them before: 

“ ‘ Be ready, gods, with all your thunderbolts ! ’ Where 
did you come by that ? ” 

“See how it fits?” said Cliff, pulling Sparkler forward, 
parting his curls, and showing the place in the collar which 
the plate and the rivets fitted. “I found it near your 
hat, up there in the woods. Winslow must have lost it.” 

“ And I know just how he lost it,” exclaimed Quint. 

“ May I see it ? ” asked the chief. 

“Yes; you can see it,” said Cliff, passing the name¬ 
plate over to the chief, who read the inscription with 
delighted curiosity. 


WHAT CLIFF CARRIED IN HIS POCKET 


201 


“ 1 P. T. Barnum ’! ” he exclaimed. “ 1 Bridgeport , Conn. 
License 373.’ Thunderation, young fellows! That ’s 
Barnum’s celebrated circus dog! He ’s worth a thou¬ 
sand dollars! ” 

He passed the plate over to Terry, and looked down 
with a smile of lively interest on the meek-eyed Sparkler. 

Terry likewise read the lettering, slapped his knee 
in wonder and admiration, and stared enviously at the 
rather insignificant-looking quadruped, exclaiming: 

“ There ’ll be a big reward offered! I wish I had cap¬ 
tured him! ” 

He returned the metal plate to the chief, who handed 
it back to Cliff, saying: 

“ I don’t see but that you ’ve got the inside track, boys! 
He ’ll be worth a deal more to you than he has cost, if he 
is that dog.” 

Cliff stroked the spaniel’s head affectionately. 

“If he belongs to Barnum, Barnum must have him 
back again, I suppose. I only wish he was mine! Now, 
tell about your scrape with Winslow, Quint.” 

“You tell first how you found the dog,” Quint said. 

“Pitch into your supper, boys,” counseled the chief, 
“ and tell your stories over your eggs and chocolate.” 

“ That’s judgmatical advice! ” observed Quint. 


XXXI 

HOW THE BOYS FOUND SUPPER AND LODGING 

IPPER? our supper?” said Cliff, eying 
the contents of the bowls and tray with 
an interest which the more exciting 
question of the moment could not 
wholly eclipse. “How is that?” 
“We sometimes have to feed a pris¬ 
oner, and your friend here came so near being one that 
I thought we owed him a treat. He ’ll tell you about it, 
or perhaps Terry would prefer to—eh, Terry? Well, lay 
to, boys, before the eggs get any colder.” 

He placed a second chair for Cliff opposite Quint’s, 
with the tray on the stool between them, and handed 
them the chocolate. Hungry, happy, grateful, they 
cracked their eggs and told their stories, while Terry, 
kneeling before the open stove door, toasted slices of 
bread for them on a fork. 

Cliff thought this a most extraordinary service for a 
police officer to render to a couple of wayfaring boys, 
but did not conceive that it placed them under ver} r great 

202 







HOW THE BOYS FOUND SUPPER AND LODGING 203 


obligations when be learned, what Terry had not yet told 
him, how Winslow had been aided to escape. 

Quint in his narrative cast no blame upon the officer, 
but called it a “natural mistake,” and took his slice of 
crisp toast from the friendly hands that prepared it, but¬ 
tered it and soaked it in his chocolate, and ate it with 
immense relish, declaring they “would have Winslow 
yet.” 

“He will certainly go back to the shed for the dog 
and his bag,” he said, “ and we must be there to nab him, 
very early in the morning, if we don't go to-night. I 
am getting dry and rested, and I'm not two thirds as 
hungry as I was before I had my supper. How is it 
with you, partner?” 

“My little nap in the shed was almost as good as a 
night's sleep,” Cliff replied. “Then, there was a good 
deal of the right kind of medicine in catching the dog, 
finding you all right—and such a supper as this! I 
could start for home, if there was any hope of reaching 
it in three or four hours.” ' 

As that was out of the question, the chief offered to 
find lodgings for them in a house near by, where their 
supper had been ordered. But Cliff said: 

“We have n't money enough for thatj I'm afraid it's 
going to break us, just paying for this picnic.” 

“That's not going to cost you anything,” said the 
chief 5 “ neither shall a bed in the boarding-house. We 're 
bound to do so much for you.” 

“You are awfully kind!” said Cliff. “But we can 


204 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


turn in only for a little while, and I must n’t be parted 
from this dog.” 

“ Then allow me to make a suggestion,” said the chief, 
between puffs of his cigar. “We ’ve got a couple of cells 
down-stairs, and they open into an airy room, unoccu¬ 
pied—no bedding, straw mattresses, rather thin, but 
clean. You won’t find ’em bad to sleep on, and you can 
keep the dog with you.” 

Cliff shrugged, and lifted his eyebrows at Quint. Quint 
smiled his drollest smile as he poised his nearly empty 
chocolate-bowl, and looked quizzically at Cliff over the 
devastated tray. 

“It will be enough for me to brag of, that I’ve had 
on a pair of iron wris’bands,” he remarked. “ If I should 
let on to the boys in Biddicut that I’d slept in a police- 
station, I would n’t answer for the result; I’m afraid 
some of ’em would die of envy! ” 

The chief laughed as he knocked the ashes off his 
cigar, while Terry stood by and grinned. 

“If we could get into a barn somewhere, and put in 
three or four hours’ sleep on the hay,” said Cliff, “ that 
would be better than going back to the shed before day¬ 
light.” 

“ That would suit me,” said Quint. “ I’ve more than 
once slept in a barn, in summer, just for fun. I ’m 
getting dry enough.” 

He put on his vest, but held his coat to the fire for a 
turn or two, while Cliff offered the fragments of their 
repast to Sparkler. The dog had declined food at first, 


HOW THE BOYS FOUND SUPPER AND LODGING 205 


and he now winked at it somewhat contemptuously as he 
lay curled up by the stove. 

“If you had spoken about the barn a little earlier, I 
might have managed it,” said Terry. “ Deacon Pay son’s 
barn,” with a consulting glance at the chief. “ Maybe I 
can now. The deacon is usually up later than this.” 

As the boys welcomed the suggestion, Terry, with the 
chief’s approval, went out to see what arrangements 
could be made. In his absence the boys talked over 
their affairs with the chief, and got his advice as to what 
they should do if they found Winslow, what in case they 
did n’t, and as to their best course in regard to the dog that 
had in so extraordinary a manner come into their possession. 

Then Terry returned, and said: “It ’s all right! 
Deacon Payson’s hay-mow will accommodate you.” 

He relighted his lantern, Quint put on his coat and 
shoes, and Cliff, with a pull of the wire-wound cord, 
woke up Sparkler dozing by the stove. Then the boys 
shook hands with the chief, who wished them luck and 
promised them further assistance if they should require 
it, and they departed, preceded by Terry carrying his 
lantern, and followed by the dispirited spaniel. 

A little way up the street, Terry knocked at a door, 
which was opened by an old gentleman in shirt-sleeves. 

“ I’ve brought my young chaps, Mr. Pay son,” said the 
officer, stepping aside, and holding his lantern so that his 
“ young chaps ” could be seen. 

The old gentleman looked them over, and fixed his 
eyes on Quint. 


206 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ I thought so,” he remarked. “ I ’ve seen one of 'em 
before. Have n’t I ? ” 

“You were in the crowd around the hot box this after¬ 
noon, when I was inquiring for a man and a dog,” Quint 
replied, glad to recognize the kindly face. 

“ Terry tells me you want to bunk in my barn,” said 
the old gentleman. “ I ’ll be with you in a second.” 

He stepped back into the room, and reappeared, put¬ 
ting on his coat, and holding a key in his teeth. This he 
shifted to a hand that came through the ample coat- 
sleeve, and led the way along a path lighted by the 
mingled rays of the moon and of Terry’s lantern. Hav¬ 
ing unlocked a stable door, he took the lantern from 
Terry’s hand, and preceded the others, past a stall, in 
which there was a horse lying down, into a well-filled 
barn beyond. 

“ Here’s hay right here on the floor,” he said; “ and I 
can get you blankets.” 

“ If it was my case,” said Terry, “ I should get up on 
this load of hay. Here ’s a ladder placed a-purpose. 
Then you ’ll be out of the way of rats.” 

Quint surveyed the premises with satisfaction, and 
said he was n’t afraid of rats. 

“Particularly with the dog to sleep with us,” Cliff 
added, laughing. “He ’s good for almost everything 
else; he ought to be death on rats! I believe he smells 
’em now! ” 

Sparkler was, in fact, sniffing about excitedly, putting 
his nose in the loose hay, whining, and finally setting his 


HOW THE BOYS FOUND SUPPER AND LODGING- 207 


fore feet on a round of the ladder, with a wistful upward 
look, as if he had understood and approved Terry’s sug¬ 
gestion. 

“ The dog votes for the top of the load,” said Quint, 
“ and I’m not so sure but it will be the best place for 
us. It may be the safest for him, if he is going to try 
any more of his tricks.” 

“You mean, if he gets away from me?” said Cliff. 
“ He is n’t going to do that, I tell you! But if he should, 
he’d find his way down from that load quicker than you 
or I could! ” 

“I guess the best place is right here on the floor,” 
Quint concluded. “ ’T won’t do any harm to pull down 
a little more hay, will it ? ” 

“None at all,” Mr. Payson replied. “And here are 
some carriage cushions.” 

“ Quint, this is a luxury! ” cried Cliff. 

“Cliff, this is judgmatical!” replied Quint. “We 
could n’t ask anything better, if we were presidents of 
these United States! ” 

“ I wish our folks could know! ” said Cliff. “ How are 
we to get out in the morning ? ” 

“I shall have to lock you in,” Mr. Payson answered. 
“ But if you are stirring before my man comes around, 
you can open this big front door from the inside; I ’ll 
show you how the swivel-bar works. Or you can unbolt 
the door in the rear.” 

“ Shall I go up on the load and throw down a little 
more hay ? ” Quint said, starting to climb the ladder. 


208 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“I can get plenty/’ said Mr. Payson, bringing a rake, 
and reaching np with it to the edge of the load. “ Now I 
think you will be all right. Unless you start too early in 
the morning, my folks can give you some breakfast.” 

“ If you want any help from us, you ’ll find the station 
open/’ said Terry. “I ’ll post the night-officer, so there ’ll 
be no more mistakes at our end of the line.” 

The boys had made their bed between the end of the 
load and the front door, and were preparing to lie down 
in their clothes, after kicking off their shoes. 

“ Come here, now! ” Cliff commanded, making Sparkler 
lie down by his side. “He heard us talk of rats, and 
can’t forget it.” He took the precaution to make a 
couple of turns with the leash about his arm, in addition 
to the loop at his wrist. “Even if he should get loose, I 
don’t suppose he can get out of the barn.” 

“Not before the doors are opened,” Mr. Payson replied, 
regarding his guests with amused satisfaction. “ I don’t 
see but what you are pretty cozy.” 

With an exchange of “ good nights,” the men went out 
with the lantern, and the boys found themselves alone on 
the floor of the great, shadowy, moon-visited barn. 


XXXII 

STRANGE FELLOW-LODGER 

DON’T know how to thank folks,” said 
Cliff. “ Somehow, when anybody has 
been good to yon, any words about 
it sound foolish.” 

“We have had more kindness shown 
to us than anything else, on this trip,” 
Quint replied, “ even with Winslow and the old cook in 
the opposite scale.” 

“I’m thinking,” said Cliff, “we’d better let Winslow 
slide. Now we’ve got the dog, we can’t make enough 
out of him to pay for the trouble.” 

“I’m a little surprised at you, Cliff,” Quint answered, 
after a moment’s silence. “ You hurt my feelings when 
you speak like that. After we got started on this expedi¬ 
tion, and it was growing a little mite interesting, you’d 
have given it up two or three times if it had n’t been 
for me.” 

“I’ve wished we had given it up more times than 
that,” Cliff confessed. “Think of what you have gone 

209 










210 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


through! Such a wetting as you got, and the tumble the 
rascal gave you, up there in the woods, let alone his 
turning you over to the police! It makes me laugh, 
though, to think of that.” 

“We ’ll laugh at the whole thing when we ’re safe 
through it,” said Quint. “Maybe we sha’n’t get much 
satisfaction out of Algernon, in one way, even if we 
catch him. But as I owe him for the wetting, and the 
broken head, and the cold wris’bands, not to mention 
other small items, I want to pay him in a lump, and get 
his receipt in full. In short, I mean to get even with 
Algernon K., if it takes another day to do it.” 

Cliff made no reply to this declaration, which sug¬ 
gested such possibilities of still further hardships and 
disappointments. Quint waited a minute, then went on, 
in a tone which betrayed how deeply hurt he was by his 
friend’s silence: 

“ You’ve got the dog, and now you naturally want to 
hurry away with him. That’s all right, Cliff. That’s 
the important thing to you. The important thing to me 
is the bear-hug I am saving up for Winslow. This may 
be a weakness on my part, and I’ve no doubt the course 
you propose is the wisest. But if I don’t get in that 
squeeze, I shall feel a want, as if I’d missed something 
useful and agreeable, all the rest of my life.” 

“ I feel just so, too,” Cliff replied. “ Although we’ve 
got the dog, I never shall feel quite happy about it, 
unless we get Winslow. But I’m doubting whether the 
chance of catching him is worth what it will cost.” 


A STRANGE FELLOW-LODGER 


211 


“We can only find that out by making the trial. Just 
give me a little help in the morning/ 7 said Quint j “ then, 
if we don’t scoop him in, and if I should feel like sticking 
to his trail a little longer, I ’ll go ahead on my own 
account, and let you start for home without me.” 

Cliff’s free hand reached over and gave Quint’s arm an 
affectionate grip. 

“ See here, Quint,” he said $ “ don’t misunderstand me. 
Remember what Cassius says: 1 A friend should bear a 
friend’s infirmities.’ I’ve played that part to your Brutus 
too many times to have a disagreement with you in 
earnest.” 

“ Oh, it’s no disagreement,” Quint protested. 

“Fact is,” said Cliff, “I got used up too soon in this 
tramp j I have n’t anything of your tremendous stick-to- 
it-iveness j and I—but no matter! ’’—choking a little. 
“You’ve been such a friend to me—you’ve helped me 
get the dog, which is your dog now just as much as he is 
mine j and now I ’in going to help you overhaul Winslow 
again, no matter how many days it takes j and you won’t 
hear me say another word about turning back, as long as 
you want to follow him.” 

“ Cliff, you are the pluckiest fellow I ever saw! ” Quint 
exclaimed, and by this time the boys’ two hands had 
clasped in a fervent, mutual pressure. “ Pluckier than I 
am! ” 

“ Don’t be absurd! ” Cliff remonstrated, with some¬ 
thing like tears in his laugh. 

“I mean it!” said Quint. “You have stuck to this 


212 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


business, when you ’ve seen it would be a good deal 
wiser to give it up. I am a little more obstinate than 
you are, that ’s all. And now you offer to give up your 
wisdom to my obstinacy. I think we ’ve a good chance 
of trapping Winslow in the morning. We ’ll try it, do 
our level best, and if we don’t succeed, then—homeward 
bound, say I! ” 

“You Ve found out you can outrun him; that ’s a 
strong point in our favor,” said Cliff. “We ’ll be cau¬ 
tious, though; we ’ll be early in the shed.” 

“ For that reason,” Quint replied, “ we must stop talk¬ 
ing now, and get some sleep. I shall be awake by the 
time the birds are twittering.” 

“ I forgot you had n’t had a nap, as I had,” said Cliff. 
“ I feel as if I could talk all night. Is n’t it pleasant in 
here?—the moonlight slanting in at that window and 
striking down over the stalls! Sparkler is sleeping, as 
quiet and contented as the most honest dog in the world.” 

Quint made no reply, and his heavy breathing soon 
showed that he was asleep; nor was it long before Cliff 
succumbed to blissful drowsiness, and slept on their bed 
of hay, between his friend and his dog. 

The moonbeams mounted higher and higher, and shot 
their penciling radiance through the racks, as the great, 
slow, solemn, starry wheel of night rolled on. The last 
fading yesterday joined all the countless yesterdays of 
the past, and another untried morrow was at hand. 

Then a dark figure crept over the edge of the high load 
of hay, put one foot after the other on the rounds of the 



“THE WARY FEET FELT THEIR WAY DOWN THE LADDER.” 



A STRANGE FELLOW-LODGER 


215 


ladder, and began slowly, and with the utmost caution, 
to descend. 

The dog gave a whine and a start, tightening the cord 
about the arm at his side. Cliff roused instantly, put 
out his hand, felt the dog’s head, and, patting it, told him 
to lie still. His eyes opened enough to see that only a 
few feeble flecks of moonlight rested high up on the 
partition, and that all was quiet in the deepening gloom 
of the barn; then he slept again. 

During this slight disturbance, and for some minutes 
afterward, the figure on the ladder remained perfectly 
motionless against the side of the load. Then it put out 
a hand in the direction of the dog, and waved it with an 
expressive downward gesture. From that time Sparkler 
made neither sound nor movement. The wary feet felt 
their way down the ladder, and Algernon K. Winslow 
stood upon the barn floor. 


13 


XXXIII 


“WHAT MAN-TRAP IS THAT?” 

TANDINGr so close to the load of hay 
that he might have been taken for a 
part of it, the dog-seller contemplated 
the situation. The great door of the 
barn was before him; but to get at the 
fastening it would have been almost 
necessary for him to step over the sleeping boys, so far 
did their legs stretch out beyond the end of the load. 

Quint’s prominent features were distinctly visible in 
the dim, diffused light. His face was pale, and the shut 
eyelids, with the discolored bruise on his temple, gave it 
a sad and stern expression, even in sleep. He lay on his 
back, with one relaxed arm on his breast, the other out¬ 
stretched on the blanket, and with his shoes and hat 
beside him on the floor. 

Nearer the silent standing figure lay Cliff, turned over 
on the arm to which the cord was attached, with his face 
toward Sparkler, curled up close by on the hay. Cliff’s hat 
and shoes were under the corner of the load, at Winslow’s 
216 







“WHAT MAN-TRAP IS THAT? 


217 


very feet. All this the keen eye of the observer took in, 
even to the slender, serpent-like coil of gray cord about 
the dark sleeve. 

He looked at the great door, then down at the legs in 
his way, and the eyes that would open, if they opened at 
all, upon any object moving in that direction. Thanks 
to good Mr. Payson’s overheard explanations, he had 
knowledge of another door in the rear of the barn. He 
stooped to give Sparkler a quieting caress on the neck, 
and to look into his slyly blinking eyes, then glided away 
to make discoveries. 

With movements so furtive that, if they had been 
heard, nothing more than the presence of mice on the 
littered floor would have been suspected, he passed the 
load of hay, groped his way around the carriage beyond, 
and found the door he sought. He had no difficulty in 
slipping the bolt without noise, and in opening the door 
a little space, to see that his way of escape was clear. It 
was bright starlight without; the moon was near its set¬ 
ting, if not already set. 

Leaving the door open a good arm’s-breadth, he stole 
back toward the front of the barn, observing every turn, 
and every obstacle to be avoided in any precipitate 
retreat. Within half a yard of Cliff’s head, he got down 
upon his hands and knees, under the corner of the load 
of hay. It was darker now, and the faces of the sleepers 
were indistinct in shadow; but their steady breathing 
reassured him, and he advanced his hand until he felt the 
cord. 


218 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


He took out his knife, with intent to cut it; but some¬ 
thing harder than hemp stayed his blade. Wire!—a 
long, flexible piece, encircling the cord, and extending 
from a small loop at the dog’s collar to a larger one at 
the boy’s wrist. 

Upon making this discovery, he was minded to cut 
the collar; but the boy was sleeping so heavily that he 
decided to unbuckle it. This he did without difficulty, 
and, having freed it from both cord and wire, he put it 
into his pocket. 

He was now ready to depart, and to take the dog with 
him; but he must first devise some means of forestalling 
pursuit. He crept by the cushions that pillowed the 
boys’ heads, and reached till his groping hand touched 
Quint’s shoes. These he took, with the hat, and, creeping 
back, placed them beside Cliff’s hat and shoes. It was so 
dark that he had to perform his operations mostly by the 
sense of touch, for which circumstance he was consoled 
by the greater certainty it afforded him of eluding detec¬ 
tion in the event of either of the sleepers awaking. 

He was now ready for his last and most ingenious 
device, which he could n’t think of, even at that critical 
moment, without a chuckle of delight. 

“Since he ’s so determined to hold something, I ’ll 
oblige him,” he thought, as he carried the released end 
of the cord toward the nearest wagon-wheel, meaning to 
make it fast to the rim, “ so he sha’n’t wake up and feel 
he has been wasting his time! ” 

But that very large substitute for the dog’s collar was 




“WHAT MAN-TBAP IS THAT?” 


219 


too far away to permit a turn of the cord to be taken 
about it, without a coil or two from Cliff’s arm, which 
could be had only at the risk of disturbing his slumber, 
Winslow thereupon produced from his pocket another 
piece, which he had not found it necessary to part with, 
and was about to cut off enough for his purpose when 
another happy thought struck him. 

“No use being mean about a little string! ” His posi¬ 
tion, kneeling on the barn floor, was becoming irksome, 
and having knotted his cord to Cliff’s, he rose to his feet. 
Then, instead of tying it to the wagon-wheel, he drew it 
along, and made it fast to the ladder, quite at his leisure. 
“To make things lively for ’em, if they start off in a 
hurry! ” was his amiable purpose. 

So far, all was well, from his own point of view, 
although our boys, if they had been awake to the situa¬ 
tion, might have regarded it differently. He was pre¬ 
pared to resume his career in a gullible world, only one 
other slight precaution remaining to be taken. 

He would have stolen their clothes, if that had been 
possible. As it was, he could make free only with their 
hats and shoes. 

The hats, one after the other, he tossed upon the load 
of hay, where they lodged noiselessly. All this time 
the dog had lain as still as the sleeping boys; but now, 
at a signal from his master, he crouched on his paws, 
alert and intelligent, awaiting orders. Then in one hand 
Winslow gathered all the shoes except one; this he gave 
to Sparkler to carry, and with that too faithful accom- 


220 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


plice stole away, as silent as the shadows amid which 
they passed. 

And still the tired Biddicnt boys slept on. 

At this juncture an astonishing thing occurred. 

As Winslow approached the door, which he had left 
unlatched and slightly ajar, he was startled to see it fly 
all at once wide open, as if moved by an unseen hand. 
He stopped, half expecting a human form to appear in 
the square of starlit space suddenly confronting him. 
But all was strangely quiet, and it seemed for a moment 
as if the door had opened magically, of its own accord, 
to let him pass. 

The mystery was quickly solved; a wind was rising, 
and it had carried the outward-swinging door around on 
its hinges. He foresaw what might happen next, and 
hastened forward to prevent it. But he was too late. A 
counter-gust swung the door again, shutting it with a 
loud, rattling bang. 

An indescribable hubbub ensued. The boys started up 
with cries of amazement, demanding of each other what 
had happened. 

u It was a door that slammed ! n exclaimed Quint. 

u Somebody has been in the barn ! ” cried Cliff, feeling 
hurriedly for the dog. 

“ Where in thunder are my shoes Quint roared. 

u The dog! The dog is gone! n said Cliff, in wild con¬ 
sternation. “ He ? s here, though! ” 

He was on his feet, following up the cord, which was 



“WHAT MAN-TRAP IS THAT?” 


221 


certainly attached to something, hut which seemed to be 
miraculously lengthened, as if it had grown in the night. 

“ Jehu! what’s all this?” 

His hand encountered the wired knot that had clasped 
Sparkler’s collar j but instead of the collar he found more 
cord—more cord! 

“The old Harry has been here!” he wailed, in mad 
bewilderment. 

“ It’s the old Winslow! ” said Quint. In springing up 
he had struck his head a stunning blow against the pro¬ 
jecting frame of the hay-wagon; but without heeding 
the hurt, or waiting to find his shoes, he started for the 
door that had made the bang, and which was now slowly 
swinging open again. 

In his headlong rush he passed between his friend and 
the load of hay. 

“Look out!” Cliff implored. But Quint kept on, 
plunging over the cord, dragging Cliff after him, and 
bringing the ladder down upon both their backs. If 
Winslow had remained to witness the unqualified success 
of his scheme for making things “ lively ” in the deacon’s 
barn, he would have had no cause to complain of the 
result. 

“What man-trap is that?” muttered Quint, as he 
scrambled off, freeing his legs from the cord and his 
back from the encumbrance of the ladder, and made for 
the open door. 

It had taken the dazed Cliff some moments to assure 


222 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


himself that there was no dog at the other end of the 
cord; hut he was thoroughly satisfied of the fact by this 
time. His shoulder had received a staggering blow from 
the tumbling ladder, and his wrist a tremendous wrench 
from the sharply drawn, wire-wound loop ; but he quickly 
disengaged himself from both, and forgot his hurts in 
the fury that possessed him to rush out in pursuit of the 
author of his woes. 


XXXIV 

ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS MAN-TRAP 

UTSIDE the barn he found night and 
silence, the dim earth outspread, and 
the starry universe—nothing more. 
Not a footstep was heard j not a human 
figure was seen, not even Quint’s. 
u Quint, where are you?” Cliff called 
out in a thrilled voice, standing bareheaded amid the 
great mystery into which he had rushed. 

Then something which might have been a post de¬ 
tached itself from a fence near by and moved toward 
him. It was the shoeless Quint. 

“ Which way did he go ? ” Cliff demanded. 

“ That’s more than I know,” Quint replied. 11 He was 
out of sight and hearing before I pitched out of the door. 
I thought I heard a heavy, thumping sound, but I’ve no 
idea in which direction.” 

“ I can’t understand it! ” said Cliff. “ I’m sure some¬ 
body went out of the barn, not ter seconds before you 
did.” 



223 







224 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Ten seconds is a good while when you are racing with 
the old Scratch! ” Quint said. Both listened. “ It does 
seem as if I should have heard him running! ” 

“I believe he has dropped into a hiding-place some¬ 
where,” said Cliff; “ or he is half a mile away by this 
time. That dog! that dog!” he moaned, in angry 
despair. “ Just after we had found out about him, and 
I was so sure of holding fast to him this time! ” 

“ The ground will be wet and soft, and we can track 
’em by daylight,” said Quint. “ I don’t see what else we 
can do. He must have be^n in the barn when Mr. Payson 
locked us in.” 

“ That ’s what the dog’s strange actions meant,” replied 
Cliff. “What a fool, that I did n’t suspect it! You 
remember how he tried to bounce up the ladder? Win¬ 
slow must have heard all our talk! ” 

“ Did he take your shoes, too ? ” Quint inquired. 

“ I guess so j I did n’t stop to hunt.” 

They paused frequently to listen during this whispered 
talk. They seemed to be in a large yard, partly sur¬ 
rounded by a fence, which on one side was connected 
with a corner of the barn by a gate. Beyond the gate 
was a driveway, which Winslow would probably have 
taken if he had made at once for the street. But the 
gate was closed and hooked. 

“ He never would have stopped to hook it,” said Cliff. 

“Nor to open it,” argued Quint. 

The gate was constructed of horizontal strips of board, 
with spaces between; the fence was similar, and low 


ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS MAN-TRAP 


225 


enough to be easily scaled by a man, or leaped by a dog 
of Sparkler’s abilities; or the dog might even have crept 
between the boards. 

The boys were searching for some sign to guide them, 
when Cliff’s foot hit some dark object lying loose among 
the sparse weeds and stunted grass by the fence. It was 
so much like a shoe that he stooped and picked it up. 
And a shoe it was. 

“ Mine, I do believe ! ” he declared. 

“Look for more,” said Quint. “We may track ’em by 
our own shoes! ” 

“ Here’s another, and another! ” said Cliff, “ all right 
here by the fence! ” 

“ This is the way he went; he dropped the shoes as he 
jumped over.” 

Beyond the fence was an open space, lying between 
Mr. Payson’s house and an apple-orchard not far off. 
The boys concluded that Winslow had vanished among 
the trees. Once in their shade, he could steal away 
without being seen or heard. Cliff sprang upon the 
fence; Quint stood looking over it. 

“What’s that?” Cliff whispered, intently gazing and 
listening. “ Coming toward us ! ” 

“ A dog ? ” Quint suggested. 

“A dog, as sure as I am crazy!” said Cliff, in wild 
excitement; for what he saw appeared too marvelous to 
be true. 

He jumped down from the fence to meet the returning 
truant. 


226 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ Sparkler! It’s Sparkler! ” he cried, darting forward 
to seize him. 

But Sparkler had no intention of allowing himself to 
he so easily recaptured. As Cliff advanced he retreated, 
turning and capering as if to lead him on; and when 
Quint came up, he ran away toward some dark object 
lying on the ground. Just then, from that direction, 
came a horrible groan. 

“ Jehu mighty! what ’s that ? ” said Cliff, his imagina¬ 
tion conjuring up appalling mysteries in the strange 
night scene they were exploring. 

“We ’ll see what it is!” exclaimed Quint, striding 
eagerly forward over the wet turf. 

The dark object became a man, and rose to a sitting 
posture. The dog leaped upon him, then ran back toward 
the boys, who were now within a few paces of the spot. 

The ground was level, with no visible impediment 
anywhere; and yet here was a human being struggling 
up with pain and difficulty from the ground, upon which 
he had evidently fallen, from no discernible cause—the 
human being they' sought! 

Even Quint was startled by the strangeness of the 
chance that had so suddenly and mysteriously inter¬ 
rupted Winslow’s hasty flight. What could have hap¬ 
pened to him? Why that dreadful groan? And why 
had he permitted his presence to be betrayed by the very 
dog he was hurrying away ? 

The shadowy orchard was on the left; on the right 
were the kitchen porch and rear gable of the Payson 


THE DARK OBJECT BECAME A MAN. 






































ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS MAN-TRAP 


229 


house, only two or three rods distant. The boys slack¬ 
ened their speed,—very fortunately, as it proved,—and 
advanced cautiously, peeringly, along the open space, 
toward the man, who was by this time struggling to get 
upon his feet. 

“No hurry! We 7 ve got him, sure! 77 said Quint. 

Seeing the boys close upon him, Winslow sank down 
again, resting upon his knees. 

“My young friends/ 7 he said, in a badly shaken tone 
of voice, “ the luck is against me ! 77 

“What are you saying your prayers here for? 77 Quint 
demanded. 

“That 7 s what I 7 m trying to find out, 77 Winslow 
answered, feeling his head and shoulders with both 
hands in a dazed sort of way. “I was running—just 
skipping along about as fast as I could go,—it seemed to 
be a clear course,—when all at once— 77 

He paused, turning his head tentatively, as if to make 
sure that the joints were still in working condition. 

“What happened? 77 Quint inquired, bending over him. 

“ 1 7 ve had my throat cut and my neck broken ! I was 
caught by a lasso, and jerked up and over, and whirled in 
the air, and dropped on my back—which is another part 
of me that 7 s badly damaged! I feel as if 1 7 d had a tussle 
with the Old Boy himself! 77 

Uttering these words disconnectedly, the dog-seller 
looked up and around, and felt his neck again, as if try¬ 
ing to realize the kind of calamity that had befallen him. 

“ Shall I tell you what did it ? 77 said Quint. 


230 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“You ’ll oblige me/’ said Winslow, his eye following 
the motion of the boy’s lifted hand. 

“You tried to cut off your useless head with this gal¬ 
vanized-wire clothes-line—do you see it?—running be¬ 
tween these two posts.” 

“ The posts I see, and I ’ll take your word for the wire 
clothes-line! ” It seemed painful for the injured man to 
look upward. “ I ’ve proof enough that it’s there! ” 

“ It’s a wonder it did n’t kill you! ” Quint exclaimed. 

“ Where’s this dog’s collar ? ” cried Cliff, who had suc¬ 
ceeded in catching Sparkler. 

“ In my waterproof-pocket, I suppose; at least, I put it 
there.” 

It was produced, and Cliff replaced it on the dog’s neck. 

“ Did he bring you to me ? ” Winslow inquired. 

“ Sparkler ? Yes,” said Cliff. “ He seemed to know you 
were in trouble and needed help.” 

“ I was in trouble, fast enough,” said Winslow; “ but I 
could have dispensed with the help. Now, what do you 
propose to do ? ” 

“ Bring a doctor, if you need one,” replied Quint. 

“No doctor for me ! ” 

“ Then a policeman.” 

“Worse yet! Of the two, I prefer the doctor every 
time,” said Winslow. “But this is n’t a case for either. 
Boys, can’t we go back into the barn there, and talk this 
little business over in an amicable sort of way? You 
need n’t try to hold him,”—to Cliff, who was attaching 
his handkerchief to the dog’s collar. “You’ve got him, 


ANOTHER MYSTERIOUS MAN-TRAP 


231 


and, with the help of a slamming door and a wire clothes¬ 
line, you’ve got me. That ’s the mournful fact, my young 
friends. I am yours to command. All I ask is, be rea¬ 
sonable. Oh, yes, I can walk. Thanks! ”— as Quint 
handed him his hat, which he picked up from the ground. 

u Perhaps you can tell us where our hats are,” Quint 
said; “ and the other half of my pair of shoes ! I found 
only one.” 

“ I TL square the shoe account, and the hat account, and 
all the other accounts, to your entire satisfaction,” Wins¬ 
low replied. “ Only give me a chance.” 

“JAnd how about the tumble you gave me in the 
woods ?” 

“1’ve had a worse tumble !—such a jar, and a wrench, 
and a shaking up generally as I never had before in all 
the ups and downs of my varied career,” said Winslow, 
on his feet, and clasping the wire that had come so nigh 
cutting the said career tragically short. “1 reckon you ’re 
about even with me, boys! ” 

“We mean to be,” said Quint, “ 
with you.” 


before we get through 


XXXV 


IN DEACON PAYSON’S BARN 

were walking back toward the 
., Winslow assisted by an arm 
Lt had passed through one of his, 
leading Sparkler by his handker- 
l tied to the dog’s collar. 
he way was clear before them, sur¬ 
rounding objects becoming distinct. The darkness that 
precedes the dawn was dissolving by such delicate de¬ 
grees that the change from minute to minute was unno- 
ticeable. The east was brightening behind the orchard- 
trees. Then, in the orchard’s edge, as they passed, a 
robin piped suddenly his familiar note among the boughs 
overhead. Another answered near by. Then a song- 
sparrow trilled ecstatically, other tuneful throats joined 
in, and soon the whole choir of field and orchard birds 
burst into song. 

The boys were not so absorbed in the sordid business 
of the moment as not to feel the beauty and freshness 
and melody that ushered in the daily miracle of the dawn. 




IN BEACON PAYSON'S BARN 


233 


All the doubts of the night-time passed away; their sense 
of the morning was one with the hope and joy that filled 
their hearts. The object of their journey was accom¬ 
plished, or nearly so, and soon they would be on their 
triumphant homeward way. 

When they reached the fence, Winslow got over into 
the yard, still carefully guarded by Quint. As Sparkler 
could n’t leap back while confined by the handkerchief, 
Cliff handed him over to his friend, then got over himself. 

“ The missing shoe, the first thing,” said Quint, finding 
the other three where he and Cliff had left them. 

“ If you J 11 give the dog a chance, he 11 find it,” said 
Winslow. “He had the handling of that one. You 
need n’t be afraid to let him go; he ’ll come back while 
you have me.” 

“1 won’t risk it,” Cliff replied. “ He and you are up to 
too many tricks.” 

“ To convince you of my good will—here, Sparkler! ” 
said Winslow, directing the dog’s attention to the shoe in 
Quint’s hand, “ find ! ” 

As the dog began to pull the handkerchief in the direc¬ 
tion of the barn, Cliff followed him to the plank-way that 
sloped up to the rear door, under the edge of which 
Sparkler thrust his nose and brought out the missing 
shoe. 

“You would n’t have found it without his help—and 
mine,” said Winslow, eager to gain credit with his captors. 

“No; and I should n’t have lost it without his help— 
and yours! ” Quint replied. 


14 


234 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


The boys did n’t stop to put on their shoes, but made 
Winslow carry back into the barn the three which he had 
carried out of it, while Sparkler likewise did penance by 
transporting the other in his teeth. 

“ Now, here’s a kind of string puzzle, which you can 
amuse yourself by undoing,” said Quint, “if you are 
feeling well enough.” 

“ Oh, that! ” replied the dog-seller, with a feeble 
attempt at jocoseness. “When I took the cord from 
Sparkler’s collar, I wanted to put it where it would do 
the most good, so I pieced it out and tied it to the ladder. 
It seems to have got into a tangle.” 

“ Untangle it! ” commanded Quint. 

Obeying with cheerful docility, Winslow began loosen¬ 
ing knots from the fallen ladder. As soon as he had 
freed the end of the cord, Quint made a noose in it, which 
he immediately slipped over the dog-seller’s wrist and 
drew tight. 

“ You are not going to do such an ungentlemanly thing 
as that! ” Winslow remonstrated, taken unawares. 

“If that’s what you call ungentlemanly, you set the 
example,” Quint replied. “I had iron on my wrists, 
thanks to you; and you are going to have hemp on 
yours, thanks to me.” 

“ Before going any further,” said the dog-seller, “ allow 
me to make a proposition.” 

“We ’ll hear that by and by,” said Quint. “Just now, 
please help my chum about those other knots.” 

The broadening daylight, coming in through the wide- 


IN DEACON PAYSON’S BARN 


235 


open door, shone npon a strange group there in Deacon 
Payson’s barn. Quint held the cord, one end of which 
was fast to his captive’s wrist, while his captive undid 
the knots of his own tying which united the two cords. 
Then Cliff, on his knees, turned Sparkler’s head toward 
the door, and held him, while Winslow unbuckled the 
collar, slipped it through the small wire-wound loop, and 
buckled it again, both boys looking on to see that the 
thing was honestly done. 

“ You see, young gentlemen,” said the dog-seller, never 
once losing his assurance or betraying any sense of his 
humiliation, “ I am doing everything I can to oblige you, 
trusting you will reciprocate. Now, I sha’n’t even wait 
for you to ask me where your hats are. I’m still pretty 
stiff, but if my cracked joints are equal to the effort, 
please give me a little freedom of the cord, and I ’ll 
restore the missing articles.” 

He took the ladder from the floor, and, replacing it 
against the load of hay, put one hand on his back, and 
the other on his windpipe, and begged to be allowed to 
breathe a moment. 

“ I was deucedly shaken up by that lasso business! ” he 
remarked, with a dreary grimace. 

“You are getting over it faster than I thought you 
would,” said Quint. “ Take your time. You must have 
been in the barn when we came into it.” 

“ That’s a natural and just conclusion ”; and the dog- 
seller frankly explained how he had got in. “ I overheard 
all your talk, and I was pleased with the ingenuity of your 


236 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


plans. If it had n’t been for the dog, I should have left 
you, undisturbed, to waylay me in the shed. As it was, 
I thought you would appreciate the means I took to let 
you know who had been your room-mate. Now, a little 
rope, Brutus! ” 

So saying, he mounted the ladder, drawing after him 
the cord still attached to his wrist, Quint paying it out 
through his fingers, as he looked up, with a humorous 
smile, to observe the dog-seller proceeding on his ex¬ 
traordinary errand. Cliff, too, stood watching the move¬ 
ment 5 and Sparkler’s soft, bright eyes were also upturned, 
with an expression of intelligence almost human. 

From the top of the ladder Winslow stepped upon the 
load of hay, Quint mounting a round or two, at his 
request, to “ give him more rope.” Having picked up 
both hats, he descended the ladder, holding them by the 
rims. 

“ It has cost me a pang,” he remarked, u for I feel as 
though every bone in my body had been run through a 
stone-crusher! But anything to oblige! The fact is, 
Brutus and Cassius, I am not the unconscionable scamp 
my conduct may have led you to suppose, and I am bound 
to do what I can to atone for the errors I have been be¬ 
trayed into by the stress of circumstances. So allow me 
the pleasure—this is yours, I believe, Brutus! Cassius, 
with my compliments ! ’’—handing the hats with the airy 
politeness which not even the “lasso business” had 
shaken out of him. 

As Quint put on his hat he was reminded of the ugly 


IN DEACON PAYSON'S BARN 


237 


bruise be bad got in tbe tumble tbe man now in bis 
power had given him. He gathered up tbe cord, and 
laid bold of bis captive’s unbound wrist. Winslow 
remonstrated. 

“ Have I done nothing to earn your confidence, but you 
still contemplate so—excuse me for saying it—so brutal a 
thing as that ? I was just going to make my proposition.” 

“We ’ll bear your proposition,” said Quint. 

“Thanks, ever so much! And will you kindly allow 
me to recline against this ladder ? ” Tbe dog-seller prac¬ 
tically answered bis own question by settling himself on 
tbe rungs. “ My accident has left me as loose-jointed as 
a jumping-jack.” 

Quint suspected some crafty pretense in this; but he 
was willing bis captive should play tbe jumping-jack as 
long as be himself held tbe string. 


XXXVI 


SETTLING WITH THE DOG-SELLER 



Y proposition is to pay you the twenty 
dollars I agreed to, and take back the 
dog,” said the smiling Winslow. 

“ You had a fair chance to make that 
settlement,” replied Quint. “Now it’s 
too late. We are going to have our 
money, but you are not going to have the dog.” 

“We know whose dog it is,” spoke up Cliff, sitting on 
a box, and drying his feet with hay before putting on his 
shoes. 

The captive persisted in his smile, though it showed 
rather ghastly in the morning light, and asked politely: 

“ Will you have the kindness to inform me how^ you 
came by that interesting information ? ” 

“You dropped it from your pocket when you reached 
for your knife to use on me,” replied Quint. 

“ And I picked it up! ” cried Cliff, showing the engraved 
plate that had so evidently been removed from the dog- 
collar. 


238 







SETTLING WITH THE DOG-SELLER 


239 


“You are giving it to me pretty straight, boys,” the 
captive admitted, grinning at the metal, while his free 
hand pressed his pocket. 

“It 's a good deal straighter than what you gave us 
about the burnt hotel and your sick mother in Michigan,” 
Cliff said, returning the polished piece of nickel to his 
pocket. 

“The burnt hotel was, I acknowledge, a myth,” the 
captive answered. “ But the sick mother, boys,” he went 
on, with a change of tone, “she—well—I can't talk about 
her! Only—I 'll tell you this: I've as good a mother as 
ever a bad boy had! ” 

Quint, too, sat on the box, preparing to put on his 
shoes. 

“ Then how happens it—” he began. 

“I know what you are about to ask,” said Winslow, 
nursing with his free hand the cord-encircled wrist, and 
speaking in the deeper tone into which his feeling had 
surprised him. “ How does any son of a good mother 
ever go wrong ? I '11 tell you what the trouble was in my 
case. I wanted to have the earth without paying for it. 
See?” 

“ No j I don't see,” replied Cliff, with a growing interest 
which he was afraid might degenerate into pity. He was 
determined not to be guilty of that weakness. 

“ I '11 explain. My mother was indulgent—too indul¬ 
gent. But she was poor. It was all she could do to give 
me a fair education, but she did that. I think you '11 
allow that I have the language and breeding of a gentle- 


240 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


man”; and a smirk of pride came back into the dog- 
seller’s pale face. 

“ People’s ideas of a gentleman differ/’ said Quint. 
“ You’ve got the gift of the gab; I won’t dispute that.” 

“I suppose I deserve that sarcastic cut,” said the cap¬ 
tive, with a sad expression; “ but it shuts off the gift—if 
I have it.” 

“Let him tell his story,” Cliff interposed, resolved be¬ 
forehand not to believe half of it. 

“Of course,” Quint assented; “though when he talks 
of the breeding of a gentleman after playing us such 
low-down tricks—but never mind! ” 

“ Is your mother really sick ? ” Cliff inquired. 

“Yes—sick with the bad-son complaint!” Winslow 
exclaimed. “And she ’ll have it worse than ever if she 
hears what I’ve been up to lately. The truth is just here, 
boys. I got into gay habits; I wanted more money than 
she could afford me; I would n’t work for it; and the 
result was, I left home under what you may call a cloud. 
I have been a hotel clerk, and I have been a good many 
other things, but nothing very long at a time. I’ve been 
an actor—light comedy; and I’ve been in the show busi¬ 
ness-employed in Barnum’s Circus, boys! ” he added 
boastfully. 

“I ’ll believe that” said Cliff. 

“ That was my last situation, and I ought to have kept 
it,” the captive continued. “ But I was foolish; I got the 
idea that I was a bigger man than P. T. Barnum himself. 
Unfortunately, Barnum did n’t see it in that light, and 


SETTLING WITH THE DOG-SELLER 


241 


when I tried to run my end of the show in a way that 
did n’t suit P. T., there was a little rumpus, and I found 
myself on the wrong side of the canvas. The trick-dog 
was one of my specialties, and it did n’t require much of 
a trick to take him with me.” 

He looked down at Sparkler, who was looking up wist¬ 
fully at him, wagging his sympathetic tail. 

“ Whatever you may think of me, hoys, he is genuine 
all through—the best friend I ever had!” Winslow 
actually sniffed a little as he said this. “I had no 
thought of selling him when I started out; but necessity 
was the mother of that scheme. I had to raise money, 
and that was the way I raised it. I found it worked 
well, and I worked it for all it was worth. I could have 
made it more profitable but* for one thing. Men who had 
money and brains too, and knew what such a dog was 
really worth, were—in short—suspicious. Then, I 
could n’t sell him in the big towns without too much 
danger of losing him; so I played him off on the rustic 
population.” 

“ My father knew he was stolen ! ” Cliff exclaimed. 

“That’s a mistake,” the captive remonstrated. “I 
had the care of the dog, and when I left, he left too. I 
kept clear of the law in that.” 

11 But not in selling him over and over again! ” Quint 
averred sternly, seizing his unbound wrist. 

“ Now, see here! ” said the captive. “ If you march me 
to the police-station, and enter a complaint, what do you 
gain ? ” 


242 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


We 7 re going to stop your little business of swindling 
* the rustic population/ 77 Quint declared. “ We ’ll gain so 
much! 77 

“ Don’t be too hard on me, boys/ 7 Winslow entreated ; 
“ I 7 ve made a clean breast of it 77 ; and he really seemed 
to think his confidences entitled him to their favorable 
consideration. “Put yourselves in my place. You 7 ve 
got good mothers, and one of you may be in a bad fix 
sometime. 77 

“ He 7 s trying the sentimental game/ 7 Quint said, with 
a frowning look at Cliff. “Are we going to be hum¬ 
bugged by him, with our eyes open ? 77 

“No! 77 Cliff replied. “But I don 7 t see the good of 
giving him over to the police. He can 7 t sell the dog any 
more; and he 7 11 give us our money. 77 

“ Here it is, waiting for you! 77 Winslov exclaimed, 
producing his pocket-book with alacrity. “ Here 7 s your 
twenty dollars ! 77 —putting a roll of bills into Cliff’s hand. 
“ And I swear to return the dog to Barnum’s Circus! 77 

“We ought to have as much as this, after all our 
trouble/ 7 said Cliff, looking at the money; “ but you are 
not going to return him to Barnum’s Circus; I 7 m not 
going to give up Sparkler to you for one minute; am I, 
Quint ? 77 

“ That 7 s judgmatical/ 7 said Quint, with stern satisfac¬ 
tion. “If we want Barnum to have his property again, 
we should be fools to trust him to restore it. 77 


XXXVI 


WINSLOW’S POCKET-KNIFE 



INSLOW begged them to “ stick to the 
bargain ” and give him the dog 5 then, 
finding they would not do this, he in¬ 
sisted upon Cliff’s handing back to him 
ten dollars of the money. 

“What do you think, Quint?” said 
Cliff. “ We are not robbers, though he tried to make you 
out one last evening. Our ten dollars we are bound to 
have, anyway; but we don’t want any of the money he 
has robbed other people of.” 

“ No ! ” exclaimed Quint; “ but those other people want 
it, and we ’ll see that they have it, as far as the extra ten 
dollars will go. We ’ll begin with the old shoemaker 
and his wife; won’t they be tickled! No, Cliff; don’t 
give him back a dollar of it! ” 

“You are right, as you are every time ! ” said Cliff. 

As Winslow strongly objected to this manner of settle¬ 
ment, Quint said: 

“ What right have you to complain ? You are getting 
243 






244 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


off what you may call dog-cheap! I ’in thinking we 
ought to hand you over to the police, after all, for the 
sake of those other people; and it ’s only the idea of our 
paying some of them that satisfies my conscience in let¬ 
ting you off.” 

Winslow reflected a moment, then stooped from his 
seat on the ladder, and patted Sparkler affectionately. 

“We part for good, I suppose, this time! Boys,” he 
said pathetically, “are you aware that I’m not much 
more than a boy myself ? I ’in not twenty-two yet, and 
sha’n’t be till next September.” 

“You look older than that,” said Cliff. 

“ So will you, at twenty-two, if you live the kind of life 
I ’ve lived. ’T is n’t the right kind of life, boys, and I’m 
going to quit it. Live fast, and pay to-morrow—the kind 
of to-morrow that never comes; that’s been my style. 
That’s what has brought me to this humiliation! ” 

The captive did n’t seem to take the humiliation very 
much to heart, however, for he added cheerfully: 

“We part friends, I trust? And now, I suppose, I can 
dispense with this?”—and he recommenced loosening the 
cord at his wrist. 

“Not yet! ” cried Quint. “I want to see the knife you 
tried to draw on me last night. Your knife! ” he thun¬ 
dered, as Winslow answered evasively. “We have had 
enough of delay and palaver! ” 

The captive brought out reluctantly what seemed to be 
an ordinary but rather long pocket-knife with a single 
blade. As it did not open in the ordinary way, Quint 


WINSLOW'S POCKET-KNIFE 


245 


examined the handle, and found in it a suspicious-looking 
rivet, which he pressed, with a surprising result. A 
slender, dirk-shaped blade flew out like a flash in the 
morning light, and he held a deadly weapon in his hand. 

“Jehu! that ’s dangerous!” Cliff ejaculated, with a 
horrified backward start. “ Think what he would have 
done to you last night! ” 

“ If I had known what you really meant to do with me, 
you never would have got me into this shape! ” muttered 
the prisoner. 

“ Think so ? ” said Quint, good-humoredly. “ One of us 
was enough for you last night, and you have had us both 
to deal with this morning. Besides, you had been mon¬ 
keying with a galvanized-wire clothes-line.” 

“ For my part, I feel as if we had been almost too easy 
with him,” said Cliff, “ though we might be easier still, if 
it was n’t for the knife. I never can forgive that! ” 

“But we are doing this chiefly in self-defense,” said 
Quint, giving a final tug at his hard knots. He gave 
a cruel laugh as he turned upon the owner of the knife. 
“ That ’s the sort of ladybird you are! ” he said, with 
grim irony. 

“ I declare to you, I never used it, and never meant to ! ” 
said Winslow. 

“ And I declare you never shall! ” 

So saying, Quint drove the blade into the partition 
behind him, and snapped it short off. The stub that was 
left he pressed into a crack, where it stuck. 

“None of that!”—as the captive was again at work 


246 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


loosening the cord. At the same time Quint seized his 
other wrist. 

“It serves him right!” said Cliff, shuddering at the 
thought of what his friend had escaped the night before. 

Quint drew the bound wrist behind the ladder, and 
drew its fellow around the other way to meet it. 

“ No nonsense! ” he cried, as his captive resisted. “ If 
you prefer the police-station, all right! But do you 
think 1’m going to leave you to follow on our track, and 
keep the dog in sight till you can contrive some plot for 
getting him back again ? By thunder ! ” he roared out, 
“ if you don’t stop working your wrrists, we ’ll march you 
to the station instanter! You tied my partner to the 
ladder; now it’s your turn.” 

“ I hoped,” said the prisoner, yielding because he must 
— “I hoped I had gained your confidence, and I expected 
more honorable treatment.” 

“ It will take something besides your cheap talk to gain 
much confidence with us; and it’s droll to hear tjou preach 
about honorable treatment! How’s this, Cliff ? ” 

Quint showed the prisoner’s hands bound behind him 
and lashed to the ladder in knots above the utmost reach 
of his fingers, wriggle how they might. Then, taking a 
turn with the remainder of the cord about the captive’s 
waist and back again, he made another knot in it, and 
tied the end to the ladder in a cluster of knots, which 
Cliff regarded with satisfaction. 

“I’ve heard of jugglers getting out of such tangles,” 
he said; “ but they did n’t have J. Q. A. Whistler to tie 



WINSLOW’S POCKET-KNIFE 


247 


the knots ! If he follows ns very soon, it will be with the 
ladder on his back.” 

The captive continued to protest and entreat; but Quint 
only said: 

“My partner was very near being taken in by your 
humble confessions and fine promises; but they won't 
hurt anybody now, and they won't do you any good. 
Talk away, if it will amuse you. Try to console yourself 
for our absence. I know it will be a sad thing for you to 
see the last of my gambrel-roof nose!" 

He was fastening the rear door. This done, the two 
Biddicut boys, accompanied by Sparkler, went out by the 
great front door, which they closed after them, leaving 
Winslow lashed to the ladder in the lonesome barn. 


XXXVIII 


HOMEWARD BOUND 

they were passing near Deacon Pay- 
son’s kitchen porch, they were delighted 
to see the deacon himself coming out of 
the door. 

“Starting so early?” said the good 
man. “ I’d been hearing voices, and I 
thought I’d come out and see how you had got through 
the night.” 

Then, if ever there was an amazed old gentleman at 
four o’clock on a fine summer morning, it was the worthy 
deacon, standing beside his kitchen porch and listening 
to the story of the strange happenings in his barn and 
orchard. 

“ My wife said she heard the voices outdoors first, but 
she did n’t wake me. That wire clothes-line must have 
been a savage thing to run afoul of! No wonder it 
floored him! And he’s in the barn there now ? I never 
heard anything so surprising! ” 

“We think he’d better stay there an hour or so,” said 
Cliff; u then do what you please with the fellow.” 

248 












HOMEWARD BOUND 


249 


“We make you a present of him,” said Quint, “only 
hoping he won’t give you much trouble.” 

“ I ’ll leave him till my man comes; then, I suppose, 
we’d better cut him loose—though I’m inclined to think,” 
said the deacon, “ that he ought to be put in pickle for 
all his misdemeanors. Come into the house,” he went 
on; u you can’t start off this way, on empty stomachs.” 

He made the boys go in, which they did very willingly, 
and talked over with them their homeward trip, while his 
wife set before them butter and bread and cold sliced 
veal, and glasses of milk, and amber honey dripping from 
the comb, Sparkler also receiving a share. Then they 
took leave of these kind people, listened for sounds in the 
barn as they went out, but heard none, and set off in the 
cool morning air, on the clean-washed country roads, with 
the light of the new-risen sun on their glad faces. 

Winslow did not follow them, with or without the 
ladder on his back, and they never saw him again. 

The boys were minded to make directly for the nearest 
way-station on the railroad connecting with the Biddicut 
branch. But it was early for trains, and remembering 
their promise to Mr. Mills, they determined to take his 
house on their way, and report to him the success of 
their expedition. Perhaps they also wished to enjoy 
their triumph in the merry eyes of the two girls who had 
been so mischievously inclined to laugh at them. 

They found a shorter course than the one by which 
they had hunted Winslow, and reached the farm-house 
just as the family were sitting down at table. They were 

15 


250 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


heartily welcomed, and offered a second breakfast, which 
they accepted with frank good will, and paid well for the 
hospitality in the entertainment the tale of their adven¬ 
tures afforded. There was open admiration as well as 
merriment in the bright eyes of the girls opposite them, 
as the boys took turns in the narrative, Cliff rendering 
the more dramatic portions in his impulsive way, and 
Quint setting off the whole with his droll commentary. 

The meal over, Cliff would have had Sparkler perform 
some of his tricks. But the dog had also had a second 
breakfast, or his last parting with his late master had 
sobered him too much, or he resented the restraint of the 
cord, of which Cliff would on no account relieve him. 
Whatever the cause, he was in one of his dumpish moods, 
and would do nothing. 

Then Cliff took from his pocket five dollars of the 
money recovered from Winslow, and handed them to 
Mr. Mills for the old shoemaker, whom the farmer prom¬ 
ised to see and reimburse for his loss within a few 
days. 

11 Now, I have five dollars which I must manage to get 
to Mr. Miller of Wormwood/’ said Cliff. “ Plenty more 
dog-purchasers may turn up, and there won’t be money 
enough to go around ; so, first come, first served.” 

Having kept the boys as long as he could, the farmer 
offered to harness a horse and drive them over to a station 
on the connecting road, which favor they gratefully 
accepted, and the wagon was brought to the door. Cliff 
lifted Sparkler into it, the dog refusing to jump, made 



“CLIFF WOULD HAVE HAD SPARKLER PERFORM.” 



























HOMEWARD BOUND 


253 


him lie down on the bottom, and got in after him, along 
with Quint. 

Then adieus were said, and smiles exchanged j the girls 
waved their handkerchiefs, and the boys their hats; the 
farmer touched up his nag, and our Biddicut adventurers 
felt that they were indeed on their way home. 

They drove briskly along the green-bordered country 
roads, where every wayside bush and tree glistened in 
the early sunshine. 

“ No stop now till we see Biddicut! ” Cliff: said exult¬ 
antly, u only as we may have to wait for trains.” 

“ I would n 7 t stop now,” observed Quint, “ even to make 
a friendly call on Winslow working his passage in Deacon 
Payson’s barn.” 

Yet it was n’t long before both boys called out simul¬ 
taneously for a halt, as they were passing another barn, 
on their way through a small town. 

It was a weather-worn structure, all of a dreary brown 
hue, except as to one end, which was conspicuously and 
garishly red with enormous posters advertising the 
incomparable attractions of Barnum’s combined circus 
and menagerie—the “ Greatest Show on Earth.” There 
were pictures of monkeys at their tricks, a half-naked 
man grappling with a lion, a tiger pouncing upon a 
sleeping Arab, elephants playing at see-saw or balancing 
themselves on rolling balls, and athletes in all sorts of 
startling and impossible positions, linked together, or 
leaping, or falling head foremost through the air. 

“ They ought to have Sparkler here somewhere,” said 


254 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Cliff. But the boys searched in vain among the flaming 
marvels for a performing dog; and when Cliff pulled 
Sparkler up from the bottom of the wagon, and tried to 
interest him in the supposed representations of his com¬ 
panions of the show, he regarded them with the utmost 
indifference, and dropped down again, blinking sleepily, 
upon his paws. 

“ Here ? s what we want to know ! ” exclaimed Quint, out 
of the wagon, confronting the red-gabled barn, and study¬ 
ing the dates and names of places advertising the succes¬ 
sive appearances of the “ Greatest Show on Earth.” 


XXXIX 


BACK IN BIDDICUT 



E ’S coming! Cliff is coming! And 
he ’s got the dog! He ’s bringing home 
the dog! ” 

Trafton Chantry, who had been watch¬ 
ing at the gate for his absent brother, 
shrieked out this announcement at about 
nine o’clock that morning, and immediately started for 
the house, as if running a race with his own voice. 

The voice got there first, and Susie took up the cry: 
u Cliff is coming ! Cliff is coming with the dog! ” She 
flew through the kitchen and out of it, calling, “Amos, 
he ’s come! Tell pa, quick! He’s come with the dog! ” 
The mother, who was doing some work in the pantry, 
dropped whatever was in her hands, and hastened to the 
door to behold with her own amazed and happy eyes the 
return of the wanderer, of whom no word had been re¬ 
ceived since Quint’s father brought news of the two boys 
the day before. Very great had been her concern for 
him during all the dragging hours of the night and 

255 











256 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


morning, and her joy at sight of him returning, proud 
and successful, after all her fears, was too much for 
dry eyes. 

“I declare,” she exclaimed, “ wonders will never cease ! 
My son! and he has got the prize ! ” For to her also the 
appearance of the dog led captive was the crowning 
triumph of her hoy’s return. 

Trafton had rushed out again to meet his brother, and 
they came into the yard together, walking fast, and talk¬ 
ing fast, with Sparkler trotting demurely between them. 
Amos came running and shouting, and Mr. Chantry ap¬ 
peared, his amused face quirking between his fleecy side- 
whiskers; and soon a jubilant group was gathered, of 
which Cliff was the central figure and flushed hero. 

He stood holding Sparkler by the cord, and with gleeful 
excitement answering, or attempting to answer, the volleys 
of questions of which he was the target. 

“ Pa said he’d bet a thousand dollars you would n’t bring 
home any dog,” cried Amos, glorying in his brother’s glory. 

“ I wish I could have taken that bet! ” Cliff retorted, 
while the father stood parting his whiskers with both 
hands, and smiling with good-humored sarcasm. 

“ I did n’t think you would get him,” he said; 11 and I 
did n’t see much use in it, even if you should. ’T would 
take a good many dogs to pay for the anxiety your mother 
suffered, sitting up for you last night, or lying awake for 
you.” 

“ I thought of that,” Cliff replied; “ and I would have 
helped it, if I could.” 


HOME AT LAST! 



































BACK IN BIDDICUT 


259 


u That ’s nothing now,” said his mother. u Your father 
was just as anxious as I was. But we both had faith in 
you and Quint, that you would be able to take care of 
yourselves, and get home all right sometime.” 

“ And we all said,” struck in Susie, “ as you did n’t get 
home yesterday, it must have been because you had got 
on the track of the dog. Pa said so, too.” 

“ Do sit down, Cliff,” said his mother. “ You must be 
tired. And we ’ll all try to keep still and let you tell your 
story.” 

“I ’m not a bit tired,” Cliff protested, sitting down, 
nevertheless; u and I don’t know what to tell first. Only 
this I ’ll say, first, and last, and all the time : I owe every¬ 
thing to Quint. He ’s great! You never saw such a 
fellow ! And now—” He could n’t help telling the most 
surprising part of his story at the beginning. 11 If you 
want to know who is the real owner of the dog—see here ! ” 
He held something clasped in his hand, which he opened 
under his father’s peering gray eyes, watching the effect 
of so astonishing a revelation. 

Mr. Chantry took the name-plate, regarded it curiously, 
and remarked coolly: “I told you the fellow stole the dog! 
But are you sure—” 

“ See how it fits the place in the collar! ” cried Cliff. 
“ And the fellow himself owned up that he stole him from 
the circus. He’s Barnum’s famous performing spaniel! ” 
Any disappointment Cliff may have felt in consequence 
of his father’s seeming lack of enthusiasm was amply com¬ 
pensated by the exclamations of wonder with which the 


260 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


others regarded the engraved plate and heard his account 
of how he came by it. 

“P. T. Barnum” was a famous name in those days, 
known in every household in the land. None of the 
Chantry family had seen his show, which never deigned 
to visit small places like Biddicut; but they had heard and 
read much of it, and the boys had been filled with burning 
envy of their few more fortunate mates who had enjoyed 
that distinguished privilege. So that, in the minds of all, 
it added immensely to the importance of the dog lolling 
at their feet, and to the fact of Cliff’s possession of him, to 
know that he belonged to the great traveling circus and 
menagerie. 



XL 

WHAT SHOULD BE DONE WITH HIM 1 

OR was Mr. Chantry’s enthusiasm as un¬ 
moved as it appeared. There was a glis¬ 
tening brightness in his eyes as he held 
the plate in his hand, and glanced at it 
occasionally, while Cliff told his story; 
and finally, when he heard how the boys 
had followed Winslow, through hardships and discourage¬ 
ments, and captured him at last, he no longer attempted 
to disguise his satisfaction. 

“ I always knew Quint Whistler had good stuff in him,” 
he remarked ; “ and I don’t see that the other Biddicut boy’s 
conduct was anything to be very much ashamed of. Yes, 
Cliff; I think you did right to take the twenty dollars, and 
that you and Quint had well earned all you got. But I’m 
glad you propose to keep only the ten you had been tricked 
out of. I’ve heard of your Mr. Miller, in Wormwood, and 
I’m pretty sure Quint’s father knows him. We ’ll get his 
five dollars to him in some way. And now—” Mr. Chan¬ 
try glanced at the engraved name again—“ now about the 
real owner of this dog with too many owners! ” 

261 













262 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


The younger boys were on their knees, patting and 
hugging the unconscious object of so much solicitude and 
excited discussion. 

“ Oh, we never can let him go again, if he is Barnum’s 
trick-dog! ” said Amos. “ I would n’t! ” 

“ Can’t we buy him of Barnum ? ” was Trafton’s pathetic 
appeal. 

“'That is n’t likely,” said the father. “Such a dog as 
that is worth too much money. Barnum must be notified, 
the first thing. I should think a reward would be offered 
for him, if he really belongs to the show.” 

“ How much do you think ? ” Susie inquired. 

“ I’ve no idea,” Mr. Chantry replied, parting his whiskers 
contemplatively. “Maybe as much as fifteen or twenty 
dollars.” 

“ I would n’t give him up for any such sum as that! ” 
said Susie. 

“ Nor I! ” “ Nor I! ” chimed in the younger boys, while 
Cliff looked thoughtfully down at the pet crouched lazily 
between his feet. 

“ It is n’t a question of what you would or you would n’t 
do,” said the father; “it’s a question of what is right. 
Stolen property belongs to the owner, no matter what in¬ 
nocent hands it has fallen into. Barnum has the name of 
being a liberal sort of man, and whether he offers a reward 
or not, I’ve no doubt he ’ll see that you and Quint are paid 
for your trouble, if he cares to have the dog back again. 
You said you looked up the names of the places where his 
show is to be the next few days.” 




WHAT SHOULD BE DONE WITH HIM? 


263 


“It's in Lowell to-day,” Cliff replied. “Next Monday 
it is to be in Worcester, and tlie day after in Springfield. 
I tell yon, it was a temptation for Quint and me to go as 
straight to Lowell as we could, and have the business 
settled before there was a chance for any more accidents. 
But we were not sure Barnum was with the show, and we 
both felt the need of a change of clothes—unless, as Quint 
said, we wanted Barnum to engage us as something new 
in the way of curiosities. So we concluded it would be as 
well to come home, and tell the news, and consult our 
folks.” 

“ A wise conclusion,” said Mr. Chantry, who commonly 
put so much pepper in his praises of his children that any 
commendation of his that was free from such ironic con¬ 
diment gave them all the greater satisfaction. “ I don't 
see but you have acted, all through, about as discreetly as 
two boys could. Now we '11 consult Quint's folks, and 
decide what's best to do.” 

“ That's my idea,” said Cliff; “ for of course he has just 
as much interest in the dog now as I have. He stopped 
to see his folks, but he promised to come by and by, and 
talk the matter over.” 

“ To-day is Saturday,” Mr. Chantry mused aloud. “ I 
believe Mr. Barnum generally travels with his show, but 
he may be going home to Bridgeport to spend Sunday. I 
don't believe a letter addressed to Lowell would find him 
there.” 

“You might telegraph,” Mrs. Chantry proposed. 

But Mr. Chantry had never sent or received a telegraphic 


264 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


message in his life, and what to most business men would 
have seemed a simple and ordinary thing to do appeared 
to his inexperience an expensive novelty. 

“ I ’ll write to Bridgeport,” said he. “ If he is n’t there, 
the letter will be forwarded. I don’t know about tele¬ 
graphing. A little delay may be unavoidable, but it won’t 
do any harm.” 

“It seems to me,” said Mrs. Chantry, “it would be a 
good idea for CM himself to write the letter $ why not ? ” 

“ That’s so 5 to be sure! ” said her husband. 

“ Oh, I can’t write a letter to Mr. Barnum! ” CM ex¬ 
claimed, looking up with frightened eyes. 

“ Do the best you can,” said his father. “ Make it as 
brief and businesslike as possible, without trying to tell 
anything more than is necessary. You never wrote a 
letter to a great man, and very likely you never will have 
another chance.” 

And Mr. Chantry went out, laughing, and stroking his 
whiskers, leaving the boy to face the formidable difficulty 
of the letter. 



XLI 


CLIFF WRITES A LETTER AND RECEIVES A TELEGRAM 



OWEVER, his father's hint had set the 
boy's mind to working; and while put¬ 
ting Sparkler into the shed, and after¬ 
ward when he was refreshing himself 
with soap and water and clean clothing, 
he thought out the substance of what he 
would write in his letter to the “ great man." 

“ If I just say in plain words that I've got the dog, and 
would like to know what to do with him, won't that be 
enough ?" he asked his mother, as he seated himself at the 
sitting-room secretary and let down the desk. 

“ Why, that's just what you want to say," replied his 
mother. “ Write just as you would talk. Now, boys, 
don't bother him • don't ask him any more questions, but 
keep away till he has got his letter written." 

Cliff, nevertheless, chewed his pen-handle a good deal, 
and started two or three letters, before he found just the 
u plain words " he wanted, and put them together in this 
way: 


265 











266 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Dear Sir: Two days ago a man calling himself Algernon K. 
Winslow came to this town, and sold me a dog for ten dollars. The 
dog is a small spaniel of mixed breed, and he has been trained to 
perform tricks. The dog got away the next morning, and another 
boy and I followed him through five towns, and caught him last 
night, and brought him home to our house this forenoon. We 
found the dog had been sold to several different persons, and he 
had got away from everybody. There was no name on the dog’s 
collar, but we think we have proof that he belongs to you. I like 
the dog, and would be glad to keep him; but if he is yours, and you 
want him again, please let me know what you wish to have done 
with him. 


This letter he signed in formal fashion, and showed to 
his mother. 

“Why, Clifford,” she said, “I think it is a very credita¬ 
ble letter, and I ’m sure your father will say so, too.” 

“ I had no idea of writing so much, but it all came in,” 
said Cliff, well pleased with his composition, now that his 
mother had commended it. “ But I want to correct it and 
copy it before father has a chance to make fun of-it. I ? ve 
got too many 1 dogs 7 in it, for one thing; I want to take 
out five or six.” 

“ I think, myself, you could improve it by striking out 
the word ‘dog’ in some places,” his mother admitted. 
“ Let 7 s see how it can be done.” 

“ I T1 do it all myself,” said Cliff, “ so I sha’n’t have to 
acknowledge I had help about writing just a little letter 
to Mr. Barnum ! ” 

He had the letter corrected and neatly copied (for Cliff 
wrote a very good hand), with the word “ dog” occurring 
in it only twice, by the time his father came in. 


A LETTER AND A TELEGRAM 


267 


“ Did you do all that without help from anybody ? ” said 
Mr. Chantry—the very question Cliff knew he would ask. 

“Of course,” said Cliff, carelessly. “I found there 
was n’t much to say. If it is n’t all right, I can try again.” 
(The evidence of his previous trials had disappeared in the 
kitchen fire.) 

His father gave a nod of decided approval. 

“Well, Clifford, I don’t mind telling you I could n’t 
have done better myself.” 

“Is n’t there too much of it?” said Cliff, trying to 
conceal his gratification. 

“ I don’t see that there is. You tell how you came by 
the dog, and it’s right to say something of the trouble 
you had in hunting him, and to let Mr. Barnum know 
you would like to keep him. No! ” said Mr. Chantry, 
emphatically; “I don’t find anything in it to alter 5 and 
now we ’ll see to posting it in time for the noon mail.” 

“ I think I’d better put on the envelop, 1 Return in five 
days to Clifford Chantry, Biddicut, Mass.,’ so that if it 
does n’t get to Mr. Barnum it will come back to me.” 

“That’s businesslike—quite businesslike!” said Mr. 
Chantry, in full assent. 

“ Only I think I’d better not seal it till Quint sees it,” 
pursued Cliff, “ since it’s his affair as much as mine.” 

“You are right, my boy! right in every particular!” 
said his father, quite forgetting that jeering habit of his, 
by which, without ever seriously intending it, he had 
embittered for his children so many occasions when a 
kindly word would have made them happy. 


268 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Quint came in soon after, and, being shown the letter, 
remarked: 

“ That ’s judgmatical! I don’t see how it could be 
better—unless I had written it myself !” 

The two boys went together to mail it in the village, 
which done, Cliff drew a long breath, exclaiming: 

“Now, to wait for an answer! We are pretty sure 
none will come to-day or to-morrow, but after that Spar¬ 
kler may be sent for at any time. It makes me feel blue 
to think of it.” 

“ You ought to show off his tricks once more,” Quint 
suggested. “I ’d like to have my folks see him. And 
why not ask in a few friends?” 

“ I ’ll do it! I ’ll do it this very evening! ” Cliff ex¬ 
claimed. “ Come over early, and bring along as many as 
you like. I ’ll try to have him in good condition, only 
a little hungry, so he sha’n’t go back on us.” 

The entertainment took place in the Chantry sitting- 
room, with doors closed, and only screened windows open, 
and it proved delightfully successful. Quint’s father and 
mother and sister were present, and there were, besides, 
a few boys of the neighborhood (Dick Swan and Ike 
Ingalls among them), who regarded the invitations as 
precious favors. 

Sparkler performed his tricks, some of them over and 
over again, with a charming alertness that won all hearts, 
and made the children more than ever unwilling to part 
with him. During the rests between, and afterward, 
Cliff and Quint, in response to many questions, gave a 






t 


A LETTER AND A TELEGRAM 269 

most diverting account of their adventures, with many de¬ 
tails which Cliff had omitted from his previous narration. 

To Mr. Chantry, who sat quietly rocking and stroking 
his whiskers, what was most gratifying in this part of the 
entertainment was the generous forwardness each boy 
showed in attributing the chief credit of their exploit to 
his companion. For of what value, after all, are victories 
won and prizes gained, unless the character be at the 
same time enriched? 

Sunday was a day of delicious rest to both our Biddi- 
cut boys, and Monday, fortunately, found them ready to 
renew their adventure. 

No letter came from Mr. Barnum; but early in the 
forenoon a messenger-boy from the village brought a 
yellowish-brown envelop, which he displayed as, with 
pretended ignorance, he inquired for Clifford Chantry. 

“ What is it ? ” cried Cliff, running to receive it. 

“ It's a telegram,” replied the boy, holding it behind 
him. “ Who is Mr. Clifford Chantry, anyway, and where 
can I find the gentleman ? ” 

“No fooling, Bob Eldon!” said Cliff, pouncing upon 
the messenger, capturing the envelop, and tearing it open. 

It contained a telegraphic blank, dated at Bridgeport, 
and filled out thus: 

Deliver dog to Barnum’s Circus, at Worcester to-day, or at Spring- 
field to-morrow. Reward and expenses will be paid. P. T. Barnum. 

Cliff was reading this message, in a highly excited state 
of mind, when Quint arrived, having immediately followed 
16 


270 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


the messenger-boy, who, as he passed the Whistler prem¬ 
ises, had yelled out the startling news that he carried a 
despatch for Cliff. 

All the Chantry household quickly gathered to hear 
and discuss the momentous intelligence, and Mr. Chantry 
observed: 

“ The dog should go to-day, for you ’ll have so much 
farther to take him to-morrow. Now, which of you boys 
will go ? or shall I go in your place ? ” he asked quizzically. 

“We ’ll both go! ” said Cliff and Quint, speaking 
together. 

“That ’s just the answer I expected,” Mr. Chantry 
replied, laughing humorously. “ And it’s my opinion, the 
sooner you start, the better, for I don’t know about the 
railroad connections.” 

Quint hastened home to put on suitable clothes, and to 
be rejoined by Cliff on his way with Sparkler to the sta¬ 
tion. Cliff also prepared himself for a possible interview 
with the great showman, and led Sparkler out from the 
shed by the cord, from which he had ventured to remove 
the wire. All the family followed him to the gate, the 
parents to give him good advice, and the children to pat 
and hug for the last time the wonderful quadruped. 

“ Let me go and see him off; can’t I ? ” pleaded Trafton. 

“ Me too ! ” cried Amos. 

The granting of the request made Susie wish she was 
a boy, that she might claim the same privilege. 

The three Chantry boys were joined by Quint as they 
passed the Whistler house; and as they went on, other 




A LETTER AND A TELEGRAM 


271 


village boys ran out to swell the procession, the surpris¬ 
ing report having spread that Cliff had received a 
despatch from the great showman, and that he and Quint 
were on their way to return the dog to the circus at 
Worcester—an event that made envious youngsters wish 
Winslow would come along with more trick-dogs, of which 
they might become the purchasers. 

The two partners, with their captive, did not have long 
to wait for the train, which relieved them of their too 
noisy and officious host of friends, and soon set them 
down at the Junction. There they had to wait for an¬ 
other train j and they had still one more change of cars 
to make, and then a ride which seemed interminable to 
them impatience, before they alighted at the station in 
Worcester. 


XLII 


HOW THE BOYS WENT TO THE CIRCUS 

ANY people were getting out of the cars, 
evidently bound for the same destina- 
f tion with the two boys from Biddicut. 
' k* Some climbed into omnibuses and 
wagons in waiting; others set off rapidly 
on foot. 

“ Shall we walk?” said Cliff. “ We’ve only to follow 
the crowd.” 

“ Since our expenses are to be paid, I rather think we 
can afford to ride,” replied Quint, as they approached a 
wagon bearing a placard inscribed: 


“To Circus Grounds—10 cents.” 


They had already discussed the question whether the 
word in the despatch meant that expenses would be paid 
for as many as might come with the dog, and had decided 
that it could n’t be strictly so construed. But they felt 
that their business was important, and that a little lav- 
272 








HOW THE BOYS WENT TO THE CIRCUS 


273 


ishness of expenditure would therefore be justifiable. 
Cliff took Sparkler in his arms, and, climbing to a seat in 
the wagon, made him lie down between his knees j Quint 
took the only other vacant place; and they were soon 
passing the throngs of pedestrians, in their rapid course 
to the circus grounds. 

Cliff’s bosom swelled mightily at sight of the great 
white tents, the swaying flags, and the converging crowds, 
with the blue dome of a perfect summer sky arching over 
all. He turned to see if Quint’s face betrayed any unusual 
emotion, and Quint answered his look with a beaming smile. 

They were out of the wagon almost as soon as it 
stopped, and found themselves in a stream of people 
before a row of small tents, or booths, containing side¬ 
shows, the wonders of which were noisily advertised by 
hand-organs, drums, and shouting men. 

Avoiding the stand of the ticket-sellers, the boys made 
directly for the main entrance of the circus tents. Two 
men were taking tickets of the throng passing between 
them. They hardly noticed anybody, and observed 
neither our Biddicut boys nor the dog until, as one held 
out his hand for Cliff’s ticket, he received this extraor¬ 
dinary greeting: 

“ We’ve come to see Mr. Barnum, if he is here.” 

“He is here, or will be,”replied the man. “You’ll see 
him when he makes his speech. Your ticket! ” 

“We have n’t any. I—” 

“Don’t come here without tickets! Stand aside and 
let people pass! ” 


274 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


Cliff held his ground, with Quint close behind him. 

“ I have this telegram from Mr. Barnum,” he cried out, 
to the surprise of the entering spectators, and of the ticket- 
taker himself especially; “ and we have brought the dog.” 

The man regarded Cliff more carefully, and cast his eye 
down at the little animal shrinking from the legs of the 
entering crowd. 

“ It’s King Francis ! ” he said to his fellow ticket-taker. 
“1 never expected to see him again! ” 

He would have taken the telegram as if it had been a 
ticket; but Cliff kept tight hold of it, merely allowing 
him to glance it over. 

“You should have gone to the private entrance; but 
all right! Dick! ” the man called to somebody within 
the tent, “ here ’s King Francis back again! Go with 
that man! ” he said to Cliff, and went on with his ticket¬ 
taking, which had hardly been interrupted. 

Cliff passed into the tent, but Quint was stopped in 
attempting to follow him. 

“ He’s my partner! ” Cliff called back, standing aside 
to let the crowd pass. 

“He can’t go in without a ticket,” the man declared. 
“ One of you is enough to go with the dog. Pass along! 
pass along! ” 

At the same time the attendant named Dick offered to 
take the cord from Cliff’s hand; but Cliff exclaimed: 

“ The dog does n’t go without me, and I don’t go with¬ 
out my partner! We are here on Mr. Barnum’s business, 
and if we can’t—” 



HOW THE BOYS WENT TO THE CIRCUS 


275 


“ Go in ! go in! ” said the ticket-taker, nodding at Quint j 
and Quint, laughing at the effect of Cliff’s defiant words, 
quickly rejoined him in the tent. 

It was a sort of vestibule to the great wild-beast show 
and the greater amphitheater beyond. In it were a num¬ 
ber of living curiosities, among which the boys noticed a 
very tame giant stalking about, and a human mite, 
placed, in effective contrast with him, on a low platform, 
from which he shouted up at every spectator who paused, 
“ How’s the weather up where you are ? his invariable 
salutation,—in a squeaking mite of a voice. 

They passed on through a large circular tent redolent 
of wild beasts, with great iron-barred cages on either 
side, and a group of elephants, chained each by one foot, 
in the central space. There was the monarch of ele¬ 
phants, the mighty Jumbo, rocking himself on his hips, 
and dusting himself with wisps of hay which his huge, 
elastic, swinging trunk swept over his shoulders and back. 
Beyond were other trunks, like writhing and twisting 
anacondas, with open, upturned mouths, which they passed 
around like contribution-boxes, begging peanuts and 
bonbons of the spectators. In the cages were mischie¬ 
vous monkeys, restless hyenas walking to and fro, sleepy- 
looking lions, and beautiful pards and panthers, only 
glimpses of which could be had through the human 
groups pressing against the ropes, but which the boys 
promised themselves they would see more of before they 
left the show. 

The attendant Dick looked down occasionally at the 


276 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


dog Cliff persisted in leading, and made a single remark 
as they passed the last of the cages: 

“ The old man will smile to see his pet back again! 
the “ old man ” being, as the boys understood, the great 
showman himself. 

The next tent was vastly larger still. It was the 
“mammoth tent” of the circus performances, supported 
by tall masts, festooned with flags, and hung, high over¬ 
head, with all the apparatus used by acrobats in their 
daring aerial feats. The benches, rising one above an¬ 
other from the ample ring, were rapidly filling with 
spectators 5 attendants were arranging spring-boards and 
laying mats for the tumblers; and the members of a 
band, wearing showy uniforms, and bearing shining in¬ 
struments, some of prodigious size, were filing to their 
places. To the boys, who had never seen a great circus, 
there was in all this preparation an inspiring suggestive¬ 
ness which filled them with wonder and joy. 

Dick lifted the flap of a curtain, and ushered them into 
a side-tent, where a troop of athletes in costume and two 
or three fantastic clowns were gossiping together or 
walking about, as if waiting for their work to begin, one 
stepping aside, now and then, to turn a handspring or a 
backward somerset on the grass, in mere exuberance of 
spirits, hardly ceasing from his talk and laughter while 
whirling in the air. 

Past this picturesque and interesting group Dick led 
the boys toward a part of the tent where a full-propor¬ 
tioned man in a black hat and a swallow-tailed coat, 




HOW THE BOYS WENT TO THE CIRCUS 


277 


standing with his back toward them, was talking with 
two other men, one of whom had a ring-master’s whip in 
his hand. The large man was speaking earnestly, and 
did not look around until the ring-master, seeing the boys 
approaching with the dog and their guide, broke out 
jovially: 

“ Ho, ho, ho! There ’s his Majesty! Mr. Barnum, 
King Francis has arrived ! ” 

Thereupon the man in the swallow-tailed coat turned a 
full, genial face smilingly toward the boys, and snapped 
his thumb and finger at the dog. Sparkler had so far 
shown but little interest in anything he saw; but at this 
signal he dashed forward the length of his leash, leaping 
up, and manifesting the most joyous emotion under his 
real owner’s caresses. 


XLIII 


AN INTERVIEW WITH THE GREAT SHOWMAN 



OU have got along earlier than I ex¬ 
pected,” Mr. Barnnm then said, looking 
pleasantly at Cliff. “ You ’ve had some 
trouble with this good-for-nothing ! — if 
you are the young man who wrote me 
the letter.” 

Cliff stood with his hat off, flushed and panting; but 
the showman’s pleasant manners quickly relieved him of 
the embarrassment he felt on finding himself in his 
presence. 

“ I started as soon as I got your message,” he replied. 
“This is my partner, Quincy Whistler. I never could 
have got the dog back if it had n’t been for him; so I 
thought we’d better both come and fetch him.” 

Quint also stood with his hat off, gravely smiling—a 
youth without blemish, except for the bruised spot on his 
left temple. Cliff noticed that the showman’s compre¬ 
hensive glance rested for a moment on that discoloration, 
and hastened to explain: 


278 






AN INTERVIEW WITH THE GREAT SHOWMAN 279 


“ He got that in a tussle with Winslow—the man who 
sold me the dog. He might have got worse, for Winslow 
tried to draw a knife on him.” 

“Winslow?” queried the showman. 

“That ’s one of the names he goes by,” said Cliff, 
“ though I don't suppose it is his real name. I Ve brought 
the bill of sale he signed when he sold me the dog”—put¬ 
ting on his hat, and producing the paper from his pocket. 

The showman glanced his eye over it with a smile that 
struggled with a frown. 

“ I know the handwriting,” he said, “ and I know the 
man. A scapegrace, if ever there was one! You are 
quite right; his name is not Winslow.” 

“ He told us—not when he sold me the dog, but after 
we had followed him up and caught him—he told us,” 
said Cliff, “ that he had been connected with your show.” 

“He told the truth, for once,” replied the showman. 
“ I know his family—respectable Bridgeport people. For 
their sakes, I set the fellow on his feet when he was 
down, and gave him employment. He is smart enough; 
he could make himself useful, if he chose; and I engaged 
him at a fair salary. But it was n’t safe to trust him 
with money, so I made him sign an agreement that all 
but a small part of his earnings should be reserved for 
the payment of his debts—chiefly debts to his own father, 
who has ruined himself by helping him out of scrapes. 
Yes,”—in answer to a question from Cliff,—“he has a 
good mother, a refined, intelligent woman. From his 
boyhood he has given them no end of trouble.” 


280 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


“ He told us he was hardly more than a hoy even now 
—not yet twenty-two,” said Cliff. 

“He is twenty-four years old,” said the showman. 
“ I’d like to retain this ”—folding the hill of sale, and 
putting it into his pocket. “He might have kept his 
place in my show, hut he became dissatisfied with the 
arrangement, and finally demanded his wages, £ash in 
hand. Knowing he would squander every dollar I gave 
him, I refused—for his own good, and his family’s, as 
he knew very well. He was intolerably conceited; he 
imagined the 1 Greatest Show on Earth 7 could n’t he run 
without his assistance. I promptly dispelled that illu¬ 
sion. He became impertinent, and disappeared with the 
dog.” 

“He gave us that part of the story pretty straight,” 
observed Quint. 

The showman regarded him with friendly interest, 
remarking: 

“ He’s a reckless fellow, hut I should hardly have sup¬ 
posed he would attempt to draw a knife on you.” 

“I was a little too quick for him, but his intentions 
were good,” said Quint, with a smile. 

“Instead of getting out his knife, my partner tripped 
him so suddenly that he pulled out this, and dropped it,” 
said Cliff, exhibiting the name-plate. “I picked it up 
afterward, and that’s the way I came to know who was 
the real owner of the dog.” 

“ That certainly resembles my name! ” laughed the 
showman. After a little further talk with the boys, 



IN THE CIRCUS TE2JT 






























AN INTERVIEW WITH THE GREAT SHOWMAN 283 


mainly about the frequent selling of the dog, he asked: 
“Have you seen any of his tricks?” 

“ Winslow showed us some of them,” replied Cliff, “ and 
I made him perform them afterward.” 

“Did he show you this? Take hold of that end of the 
cord.” 

It was the cord which another attendant (Dick had dis¬ 
appeared) took from Sparkler’s collar. Cliff held one end 
of it, the showman swung it by the other end, and at a 
word the dog, running in, began to jump the rope with 
surprising ease and gracefulness. 

“ I wish I had known he could do that! ” Cliff exclaimed 
admiringly. “Would n’t it have pleased our folks?”— 
turning to Quint, who smiled amused assent. 

“ Here’s another very pretty performance.” 

The showman tossed aside the cord, and reached for a 
drum brought by the attendant. He requested Cliff to 
hold one side of it, while he held the other, facing him, 
and raising the drum about three feet from the ground. 
At a word, Sparkler made a swift dash, and leaped straight 
through it, bursting both drumheads, with a double ex¬ 
plosion, and landing on the turf beyond. The drumheads, 
as the boys perceived, were of paper. 

“ That makes me feel bad! ” Quint remarked, while 
Cliff was expressing his unbounded admiration. 

“ How so ? ” Mr. Barnum asked, as he tossed the broken 
drum to the attendant. 

“ To think any other owner for that dog has turned up, 


284 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


and that he does n’t belong to my partner,” Quint replied, 
with a humor the showman appreciated. 

Mr. Barnum asked the boys a few questions about their 
adventure, and laughed heartily at the amusing parts of 
it. He then said: 

“ Have you seen a notice of the reward offered ? I am 
having it posted now with the show-bills, and I’ve had it 
sent to a few country papers.” 

u I have n’t seen it,” Cliff replied; “I don’t know anything 
about any reward, except what you said in your telegram.” 

Mr. Barnum was opening a long, well-filled pocket-book. 

“ I offered a moderate sum—forty dollars. Then, there 
are your expenses. Of course I meant your expenses 
bringing the dog from Biddicut; but I think, with all the 
trouble you ’ve had, I ought to allow ten dollars on that 
account. Then, there’s the money you paid for the dog 
—ten dollars more. Besides, there are two of you; and 
I am glad to get King Francis back at any price. How’s 
this ? Satisfactory ? ” And he put into Cliff’s hand six 
ten-dollar bank-notes. 

“ Oh, Mr. Barnum! ” Cliff exclaimed, completely over¬ 
come by such unexpected munificence. “ Forty dollars is 
enough—more than we expected! You need n’t say 
anything about the expenses. And I forgot—I meant to 
tell you—Winslow gave me back that ten dollars.” 

“ So much the better! ” said the showman, smiling in 
hearty enjoyment of the surprise and pleasure he was able 
to afford two such honest-minded youths. “ It is thirty 
dollars apiece. I think you have earned it, and if you are 


AN INTERVIEW WITH THE GREAT SHOWMAN 285 


the sort of boys I take you for, a little nest-egg like that 
is n’t going to do you any harm.” 

“ It’s a small fortune to us ! ” said Cliff, with glistening 
eyes. “Here, Quint, you must take charge of your 
share”—dividing the money on the spot. “I am afraid 
to have so much money about me! ” 

“Well, thanks! and good fortune to you!” said the 
showman, holding out both hands to the boys. 

“ Oh, we thank you , Mr. Barnum—I can’t tell you how 
much ! ” replied Cliff. “ I suppose I must say good-by to 
Sparkler, too; that’s the only thing I am sorry for now. 
Sparkler is n’t his name ? ” he said, looking up, as he gave 
the dog a parting caress. 

“ King Francis is the only name we know him by.” 
Mr. Barnum then said: “ Did you ever see my show ? ” 

“Never; but we have always wanted to,” said Cliff, 
with shining eyes. 

The attendant who had carried the drum away now re¬ 
turned with two packages looking like books in wrappers. 
Mr. Barnum said, as he took them: 

“Show these young men to the best reserved seats 
there are left.” Then, presenting one of the packages to 
each of the boys: “ This is the story of my life. I hope 
you will find it instructive, and that your interest in it 
will not be lessened by the fact that you have seen and 
talked with the writer.” 

“ I have heard of your book,” said Cliff, “ and I know 
we shall be interested in it, and think all the more of it 
because you gave it to us! ” He was stammering his 


286 


TWO BIDDICUT BOYS 


thanks, when Quint in a low voice said something in his 
ear, which the showman overheard. 

u Write my autograph in the books ? Certainly, if you 
wish it. Go to your places now, and I will send them 
around to you before the show is over.” 

The proud parade of the Roman Hippodrome, with its 
horses and chariots and solemn elephants, gaudy ban¬ 
ners and braying trumpets, was beginning its stately 
circuit of the arena when the boys reentered the great 
tent. Then, as they mounted to the places to which the 
attendant guided them, with opulence in their pockets and 
exultation in their hearts, the sonorous brazen measures 
of the band burst forth, rivaling in sound the majestic 
movement and gorgeous colors of the pompous procession. 

11 Is n 7 t this grand! ” said Cliff, his face shining as with 
the light of victory. 

“It ? s judgmatical! ” replied Quint, with a high and 
haughty smile. 


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